The Other Potter: Part IV
by Katerix
Summary: Sequel to the Other Potter: Part III. Follow Kitty Potter as she embarks on a journey with the Trio to destroy the Horcruxes.
1. Chapter 1

The Last Time at the Dursleys

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any HP character.

'What happened to you?' said Kitty looking at Harry who was nursing his bleeding hand.

'I cut myself with this mirror,' replied Harry, kicking the bit of glass on the floor.

'What a pity that you can't heal it using magic,' said Kitty.

'If only I had cut myself four days later, I would have healed this in no time,' said Harry frustrated.

'Oh, here's the Daily Prophet,' said Kitty looking out of the window to see a large tawny owl flying towards their bedroom window.

Kitty opened to window, and let the owl in. After untying the scroll tied to the owl's leg, Kitty paid it three Knuts and stretched out the newspaper.

'Anything interesting?' asked Harry.

'Hmm, let me see…' said Kitty, 'Oh, it says Professor Burbage has resigned from Hogwarts. I wonder why. She used to teach me Muggle Studies.'

Kitty turned the pages and exclaimed, 'Oh and here's an article about Dumbledore. Listen:

_Albus Dumbledore Remembered: By Elphias Doge._

_I met Albus Dumbledore at the age of eleven, on our first day at Hogwarts. Our mutual attraction was undoubtedly due to the fact that we both felt ourselves to be outsiders. I had contracted dragon pox shortly before arriving at school, and while I was no longer contagious, my pock-marked visage and greenish hue did not encourage many to approach me. For his part, Albus had arrived at Hogwarts under the burden of unwanted notoriety. Scarcely a year previously, his father, Percival, had been convicted of a savage and well-publicized attack upon three young Muggles._

Albus never attempted to deny that his father (who was to die in Azkaban) had committed this crime; on the contrary, when I plucked up courage to ask him, he assured me that he knew his father to be guilty. Some, indeed, were disposed to praise his father's action and assumed that Albus too was a Muggle-hater. They could not have been more mistaken: As anybody who knew Albus would attest, he never revealed the remotest anti-Muggle tendency.

In a matter of months, however, Albus's own fame had begun to eclipse that of his father. He not only won every prize of note that the school offered, he was soon in regular correspondence with the most notable magical names of the day, including Nicolas Flamel, the celebrated alchemist; Bathilda Bagshot, the noted historian; and Adalbert Waffling, the magical theoretician. 

_Three years after we had started at Hogwarts, Albus's brother, Aberforth, arrived at school. They were not alike: Aberforth was never bookish and, unlike Albus, preferred to settle arguments by dueling rather than through reasoned discussion. However, it is quite wrong to suggest, as some have, that the brothers were not friends. They rubbed along as comfortably as two such different boys could do._

_When Albus and I left Hogwarts we intended to take the then-traditional tour of the world together, visiting and observing foreign wizards, before pursuing our separate careers. However, tragedy intervened. On the very eve of our trip, Albus's mother, Kendra, died, leaving Albus the head, and sole breadwinner, of the family._

_That was the period of our lives when we had least contact. Immersed in my own experiences, it was with horror that I heard, toward the end of my year's travels, that another tragedy had struck the Dumbledores: the death of his sister, Ariana._

Though Ariana had been in poor health for a long time, the blow, coming so soon after the loss of their mother, had a profound effect on both of her brothers. All those closest to Albus and I count myself one of that lucky number, agree that Ariana's death, and Albus's feeling of personal responsibility for it (though, of course, he was guiltless), left their mark upon him forevermore.

I returned home to find a young man who had experienced a much older person's suffering. Albus was more reserved than before, and much less light-hearted. To add to his misery, the loss of Ariana had led, not to a renewed closeness between Albus and Aberforth, but to an estrangement. He rarely spoke of his parents or of Ariana from then on, and his friends learned not to mention them.

Other quills will describe the triumphs of the following years. Dumbledore's innumerable contributions to the store of Wizarding knowledge, including his discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, will benefit generations to come, as will the wisdom he displayed in the many judgments while Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. They say, still, that no Wizarding duel ever matched that between Dumbledore and Grindelwald in 1945. Those who witnessed it have written of the terror and the awe they felt as they watched these two extraordinary wizards to battle. Dumbledore's triumph, and its consequences for the Wizarding world, are considered a turning point in magical history to match the introduction of the International Statute of Secrecy or the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Kitty stopped reading and looked at Harry. Both of them were thinking the exact same thing. Kitty had thought that she knew Dumbledore, but after reading this obituary, she felt that she had barely known him at all.

Harry strode across the room, and picked p the broken shard of mirror. He saw a flash of brightest blue. Harry froze, his cut finger slipping on the jagged edge of the mirror again. He had imagined it, he must have done. He glanced over his shoulder, but the wall was a sickly peach color of Aunt Petunia's choosing: There was nothing blue there for the mirror to reflect. He peered into the mirror fragment again, and saw nothing but his own bright green eye looking back at him.

'Kat, look at this and tell me what you see,' said Harry, handing her the piece of glass.

Kitty took it and held it up.

'I see myself,' said Kitty.

'Well,' said Harry, 'I know you'll think I'm mad, but I think I just saw Dumbledore's blue eyes in it.'

'You're right,' said Kitty, 'You are mad. Harry, he's dead. No matter how hard you wish to see Dumbledore in that mirror, you can't.'

'I know he's dead,' sighed Harry, 'It must have been a trick of the light.'

'You two!' roared a voice, 'get down here!'

Harry and Kitty got up and went downstairs.

'Sit down!' barked Uncle Vernon. Harry and Kitty sat. Uncle Vernon began pacing up and down. Dudley and Aunt Petunia followed his movement with anxious expressions.

'I've changed my mind,' said Uncle Vernon, 'I've decided I don't believe a word of it. We're staying put, not going anywhere.'

Kitty looked up at her uncle and felt a mixture of exasperation and amusement. Vernon Dursley had been changing his mind every twenty four hours for the past four weeks, packing and unpacking and repacking the car with every change of heart.

'According to you,' Vernon Dursley said, now resuming his pacing up and down the living room, 'we, Petunia, Dudley, and I, are in danger. From … from…'

'Some of 'my lot' right?' said Harry.

'Well I don't believe it,' repeated Uncle Vernon, coming to a halt in front of Harry again. 'I was awake half the night thinking it all over, and I believe it's a plot to get the house.'

'The house?' repeated Harry. 'What house?'

'This house!' shrieked Uncle Vernon, the vein his forehead starting to pulse. 'Our house! House prices are skyrocketing around here! You want us out of the way and then you're going to do a bit of hocus pocus and before we know it the deeds will be in your name and…'

'Are you out of your mind?' demanded Kitty. 'A plot to get this house? Like we'd want this house, the one in which we've spent our rotten childhood.'

'Just in case you've forgotten,' said Harry, 'I've already got a house my godfather left me one. So why would we want this one?'

There was silence. Harry thought he had rather impressed his uncle with this argument.

'You claim,' said Uncle Vernon, starting to pace yet again, 'that this Lord Thing…'

'Voldemort,' said Harry impatiently, 'and we've been through this about a hundred times already. This isn't a claim, its fact. Dumbledore told you last year, and Kingsley and Mr. Weasley explained it all as well. Once I'm seventeen, the protective charm that keeps me safe will break, and that exposes you as well as me. The Order is sure Voldemort will target you, whether to torture you to try and find out where I am, or because he thinks by holding you hostage I'd come and try to rescue you.'

Uncle Vernon's and Harry's eyes met. Harry was sure that in that instant they were both wondering the same thing. Then Uncle Vernon walked on and Harry resumed, 'You've got to go into hiding and the Order wants to help. You're being offered serious protection, the best there is.'

'I thought there was a Ministry of Magic?' asked Vernon Dursley abruptly.

'There is,' said Kitty, surprised.

'Well, then, why can't they protect us? It seems to me that, as innocent victims, guilty of nothing more than harboring a marked man, we ought to qualify for government protection!'

Harry laughed; he could not help himself. It was so very typical of his uncle to put his hopes in the establishment, even within this world that he despised and mistrusted. 'You heard what Mr. Weasley and Kingsley said,' Harry replied. 'We think the Ministry has been infiltrated.'

'All right,' he said, stopping in front of Harry yet again. 'All right, let's say for the sake of argument we accept this protection. I still don't see why we can't have that Kingsley bloke.'

Kitty managed not to roll her eyes, but with difficulty. This question had also been addressed half a dozen times.

'As I've told you,' Harry said through gritted teeth, 'Kingsley is protecting the Mug-I mean, your Prime Minister.'

'Exactly, he's the best!' said Uncle Vernon.

'Well, he's taken,' said Harry. 'But Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle are more than up to the job. Once I'm seventeen, all of them, Death Eaters, Dementors, maybe even Inferi, which means dead bodies enchanted by a Dark wizard will be able to find you and will certainly attack you. And if you remember the last time you tried to outrun wizards, I think you'll agree you need help.'

Finally Uncle Vernon blurted out, 'But what about my work? What about Dudley's school?'

'Don't you understand?' shouted Kitty. 'They will torture and kill you like they did our parents!'

'Dad,' said Dudley in a loud voice, 'Dad, I'm going with these Order people.'

'Dudley,' said Harry getting up to go back to his bedroom, 'for the first time in your life, you're talking sense. They'll be here in about five minutes.'

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	2. Chapter 2

Departure of the Dursleys

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hp.

The doorbell rang. Harry and Kitty headed back out of their room and downstairs. It was too much to expect Hestia and Dedalus to cope with the Dursleys on their own.

'Harry Potter!' squeaked an excited voice, the moment Harry had opened the door; a small man in a mauve top hat that was sweeping him a deep bow. 'And Kitty Potter!'

'Hi, Dedalus,' said Harry, bestowing a small and embarrassed smile upon the dark haired Hestia. 'It's really good of you to do this... They're through here, my aunt and uncle and cousin...'

'Good day to you, Harry Potter's relatives!' said Dedalus happily striding into the living room. The Dursleys did not look at all happy to be addressed thus; Kitty half expected another change of mind. Dudley shrank neared to his mother at the sight of the witch and wizard.

'I see you are packed and ready. Excellent! The plan, as Harry has told you, is a simple one,' said Dedalus, pulling an immense pocket watch out of his waistcoat and examining it. 'We shall be leaving before Harry and Kitty do. Due to the danger of using magic in your house, Harry and Kitty being still underage it could provide the Ministry with an excuse to arrest him. We shall be driving, say, ten miles or so before Disapparating to the safe location we have picked out for you. You know how to drive, I take it?' He asked Uncle Vernon politely.

'Know how to drive? Of course I ruddy well know how to drive!' spluttered Uncle Vernon.

'Very clever of you, sir, very clever. I personally would be utterly bamboozled by all those buttons and knobs,' said Dedalus.

'Can't even drive,' Uncle Vernon muttered under his breath, his mustache rippling indignantly, but fortunately neither Dedalus nor Hestia seemed to hear him.

'You, Harry,' Dedalus continued, 'will wait here with your sister, for your guard. There has been a little change in the arrangements.'

'What d'you mean?' said Harry at once. 'I thought Mad-Eye was going to come and take us by Side Along-Apparition?'

'Can't do it,' said Hestia tersely, 'Mad-Eye will explain.'

The Dursleys, who had listened to all of this with looks of utter incomprehension on their faces, jumped as a loud voice screeched, 'Hurry up!' Harry looked all around the room before realizing the voice had issued from Dedalus's pocket watch.

'We are attempting to time your departure from the house with your family's Disapparition, Harry, thus the charm breaks the moment you all head for safety,' said Dedalus.

'Perhaps we should wait outside in the hall, Dedalus,' murmured Hestia. She clearly felt that it would be tactless for them to remain the room while Harry, Kitty and the Dursleys exchanged loving, possibly tearful farewells.

'There's no need,' Harry muttered, but Uncle Vernon made any further explanation unnecessary by saying loudly, 'Well, this is good-bye then both of you.'

He swung his right arm upward to shake Harry's hand, but at the last moment seemed unable to face it, and merely closed his fist and began swinging it backward and forward like a metronome.

'Ready, Diddy?' asked Petunia, fussily checking the clasp of her handbag so as to avoid looking at Harry and Kitty altogether.

Dudley did not answer but stood there with his mouth slightly ajar, reminding Kitty a little of the giant, Grawp.

'I don't understand,' he said.

'What don't you understand, popkin?' asked Petunia looking up at her son.

Dudley raised a large, hamlike hand to point at Harry and Kitty.

'Why aren't they coming with us?'

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia froze when they stood staring at Dudley as though he had just expressed a desire to become a ballerina.

'Well, they don't want to,' said Uncle Vernon, turning to glare at Harry and Kitty and adding, 'You don't want to, do you?'

'Not in the slightest,' said Harry.

'Wouldn't dream of it,' added Kitty, with a grin.

'There you are,' Uncle Vernon told Dudley. 'Now come on we're off.'

He marched out of the room. They heard the front door open, but Dudley did not move and after a few faltering steps Aunt Petunia stopped too.

'What now?' barked Uncle Vernon, reappearing in the doorway.

It seemed that Dudley was struggling with concepts too difficult to put into words. After several moments of apparently painful internal struggle he said, 'But where're they going to go?'

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon looked at each other. It was clear that Dudley was frightening them. Hestia Jones broke the silence.

'But... surely you know where your nephew and niece are going?' she asked looking bewildered.

'Certainly we know,' said Vernon Dursley. 'They're off with some of your lot, isn't he? Right, Dudley, let's get in the car, you heard the man, we're in a hurry.'

Again, Vernon Dursley marched as far as the front door, but Dudley did not follow.

'Off with some of our lot?'

Hestia looked outraged. Harry and Kitty had met this attitude before Witches and wizards seemed stunned that his closed living relatives took so little interest in them.

'It's fine,' Harry assured her. 'It doesn't matter, honestly.'

'Don't these people realize what you've been through? What danger you are in? The unique position you hold in the hearts of the anti Voldemort movement?' said Hestia clearly appalled.

'Er…no, they don't,' said Harry. 'They think we're a waste of space, actually but we're used to it.'

'I don't think you're a waste of space.'

If Kitty had not seen Dudley's lips move, she might not have believed it.

'Well... er... thanks, Dudley,' said Harry awkwardly.

Again, Dudley appeared to grapple with thoughts too unwieldy for expression before mumbling, 'You saved my life.'

'Not really,' said Harry. 'It was your soul the Dementor would have taken...'

Aunt Petunia burst into tears. Hestia Jones gave her an approving look that changed to outrage as Aunt Petunia ran forward and embraced Dudley rather than Harry. 'S-so sweet, Dudders...' she sobbed into his massive chest. 'S-such a lovely b-boy... s-saying thank you...'

'But he hasn't said thank you at all!' said Hestia indignantly. 'He only said he didn't think Harry was a waste of space!'

'Yeah, but coming from Dudley that's like I love you,' said Harry, torn between annoyance and a desire to laugh as Aunt Petunia continued to clutch at Dudley as if he had just saved Harry from a burning building.

'Are we going or not?' roared Uncle Vernon, reappearing yet again at the living room door. 'I thought we were on a tight schedule!'

'Yes…yes, we are,' said Dedalus Diggle, 'We really must be off.'

'Good luck. I hope we meet again. The hopes of the Wizarding world rest upon your shoulders, Harry.'

'Oh,' said Harry, 'right. Thanks.'

'Farwell, both of you,' said Hestia, 'Our thoughts go with you.'

'I hope everything's okay,' said Kitty with a glance toward Aunt Petunia and Dudley.

'Oh I'm sure we shall end up the best of chums,' said Diggle slightly, waving his hat as he left the room. Hestia followed him.

Dudley gently released himself from his mother's clutches and walked toward Harry who had to repress an urge to threaten him with magic. Then Dudley held out his large, pink hand.

'Blimey, Dudley,' said Harry over Aunt Petunia's renewed sobs, 'did the Dementors blow a different personality into you?'

'Dunno,' muttered Dudley, now shaking Kitty's hand, 'See you.'

'Yeah ...' said Harry. 'Maybe. Take care, Big D.'

Dudley nearly smiled. They lumbered from the room. Kitty heard his heavy footfalls on the graveled drive, and then a car door slammed.

Aunt Petunia whose face had been buried in her handkerchief looked around at the sound. She did not seem to have expected to find herself alone with Harry and Kitty. Hastily stowing her wet handkerchief into her pocket, she said, 'Well, good-bye' and marched towards the door without looking at them.

'Good-bye,' said Harry and Kitty.

She stopped and looked back. For a moment Kitty had the strangest feeling that Aunt Petunia wanted to say something to her; she gave her an odd, tremulous look and seemed to teeter on the edge of speech, but then, with a little of her head, she hustled out of the room after her husband and son.

'Was that for real?' said Kitty.

Harry sniggered.

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	3. Chapter 3

The Seven Harry Potters

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hp.

'Let's take a last look at the place,' said Kitty.

'Yeah,' said Harry, 'let's remember the good times. I mean, look at this doormat. What memories ... Dudley puked on it after I saved him from the Dementors ... Turns out he was grateful after all, can you believe it? ... And last summer, Dumbledore walked through that front door...'

'We used to sleep here,' said Kitty, pulling open a door under the stairs.

There was a sudden, deafening roar from somewhere nearby. Kitty clutched Harry in fright. Harry straightened up with a jerk and smacked the top of his head on the low door frame. Pausing only to employ a few of Uncle Vernon's choicest swear words, he staggered back into the kitchen, clutching his head and staring out of the window into the back garden. Kitty followed him.

The darkness seemed to be rippling, the air itself quivering. Then, one by one, figures began to pop into sight as their Disillusionment Charms lifted. Dominating the scene was Hagrid, wearing a helmet and goggles and sitting astride an enormous motorbike with a black sidecar attached. All around him other people were dismounting from brooms and, in three cases, skeletal, black winged horses.

'It's them!' said Harry rushing to the back door. Wrenching open the back door, Harry hurtled into their midst. There was a general cry of greeting as Hermione flung her arms around him, Ron clapped him on the back, and Hagrid said, "All righ', both of you? Ready fer the off?"

'Definitely,' said Kitty, beaming around at them all. 'But I wasn't expecting this many of you!'

'Change of plan,' growled Mad-Eye, who was holding two enormous bulging sacks, and whose magical eye was spinning from darkening sky to house to garden with dizzying rapidity. 'Let's get undercover before we talk you through it.'

Harry and Kitty led them all back into the kitchen where, laughing and chattering, they settled on chairs, sat themselves upon Aunt Petunia's gleaming work surfaces, or leaned up against her spotless appliances; Ron, long and lanky; Hermione, her bushy hair tied back in a long plait; Fred and George, grinning identically; Bill, badly scarred and longhaired; Mr. Weasley, kind-faced, balding, his spectacles a little awry; Mad-Eye, battle-worn, one-legged, his bright blue magical eye whizzing in its socket; Tonks, whose short hair was her favorite shade of bright pink; Remus, grayer, more lined; Fleur, slender and beautiful, with her long silvery blonde hair; Kingsley, bald and broad-shouldered; Hagrid, with his wild hair and beard, standing hunchbacked to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling; and Mundungus Fletcher, small, dirty, and hangdog, with his droopy beady hound's eyes and matted hair.

'Kingsley, I thought you were looking after the Muggle Prime Minister?' Harry called across the room.

'He can get along without me for one night,' said Kingsley, 'You're more important.'

'Kitty, guess what?' said Tonks from her perch on top of the washing machine, and she wiggled her left hand at her; a ring glistened there.

'You got married?' Kitty yelped, looking from her to Remus.

'I'm sorry you couldn't be there, it was very quiet.'

'That's brilliant, congratulations!' said Kitty giving Remus a hug.

'All right, all right, we'll have time for a cozy catch-up later,' roared Moody over the hubbub, and silence fell in the kitchen. Moody dropped his sacks at his feet and turned to Harry. 'As Dedalus probably told you, we had to abandon Plan A. Pius Thicknesse has gone over, which gives us a big problem. He's made it an imprisonable offense to connect this house to the Floo Network, place a Portkey here, or Apparate in or out. All done in the name of your protection, to prevent You-Know-Who getting in at you. Absolutely pointless, seeing as your mother's charm does that already. What he's really done is to stop you getting out of here safely.'

'Second problem: You're underage, which means you've still got the Trace on you.'

'I don't…'

'The Trace, the Trace!' said Mad-Eye impatiently. 'The charm that detects magical activity, the way the Ministry finds out about underage magic! If you, or anyone around you, casts a spell to get you out of here, Thicknesse is going to know about it, and so will the Death Eaters.'

'We can't wait for the Trace to break, because the moment you turn seventeen you'll lose all the protection your mother gave you. In short, Pius Thicknesse thinks he's got you cornered good and proper,' said Remus.

'So what are we going to do?' asked Kitty.

'We're going to use the only means of transport left to us, the only ones the Trace can't detect, because we don't need to cast spells to use them: brooms, thestrals, and Hagrid's motorbike. Now, your mother's charm will only break under two conditions: when you come of age, or,' Moody gestured around the pristine kitchen, 'you no longer call this place home. You and your aunt and uncle are going your separate ways tonight, in the full understanding that you're never going to live together again, correct?'

Harry nodded.

'So this time, when you leave, there'll be no going back, and the charm will break the moment you get outside its range. We're choosing to break it early, because the alternative is waiting for You-Know-Who to come and seize you the moment you turn seventeen.'

'The one thing we've got on our side is that You-Know-Who doesn't know we're moving you tonight. We've leaked a fake trail to the Ministry: They think you're not leaving until the thirtieth. However, this is You-Know-Who we're dealing with, so we can't rely on him getting the date wrong; he's bound to have a couple of Death Eaters patrolling the skies in this general area, just in case. So, we've given a dozen different houses every protection we can throw at them. They all look like they could be the place we're going to hide you, they've all got some connection with the Order: my house, Kingsley's place, Molly's Auntie Muriel's…you get the idea. You'll be going to Tonks's parents. Once you're within the boundaries of the protective enchantments we've put on their house you'll be able to use a Portkey to the Burrow. And Kitty, you'll be going with Remus to Grimmauld Place, from where you'll take your Portkey to the Burrow. Any questions?' Oh, forgot to mention the key point. There will be seven Harry Potters moving through the skies tonight, each of them with a companion, each pair heading for a different safe house.'

From inside his cloak Moody now withdrew a flask of what looked like mud. There was no need for him to say another word; Harry understood the rest of the plan immediately.

'No!' he said loudly, his voice ringing through the kitchen. 'No way!'

'I told them you'd take it like this,' said Hermione with a hint of complacency.

'If you think I'm going to let six people risk their lives…'

'Because it's the first time for all of us,' said Ron.

'This is different, pretending to be me…'

'Well, none of us really fancy it, Harry,' said Fred earnestly. 'Imagine if something went wrong and we were stuck as specky, scrawny gits forever.'

Harry did not smile.

'You can't do it if I don't cooperate, you need me to give you some hair.'

'Well, that's the plan scuppered,' said George. 'Obviously there's no chance at all of us getting a bit of your hair unless you cooperate.'

'Yeah, thirteen of us against one bloke who's not allowed to use magic; we've got no chance,' said Fred.

'Funny,' said Harry as Kitty grinned, 'really amusing.'

'If it has to come to force, then it will,' growled Moody, his magical eye now quivering a little in its socket as he glared at Harry. 'Everyone here's overage, Potter, and they're all prepared to take the risk.'

Mundungus shrugged and grimaced; the magical eye swerved sideways to glance at him out of the side of Moody's head.

'Let's have no more arguments. Time's wearing on. I want a few of your hairs, boy, now.'

'But this is mad, there's no need…'

'No need!' snarled Moody. 'With You-Know-Who out there and half the Ministry on his side? Potter, if we're lucky he'll have swallowed the fake bait and he'll be planning to ambush you on the thirtieth, but he'd be mad not to have a Death Eater or two keeping an eye out, it's what I'd do. They might not be able to get at you or this house while your mother's charm holds, but it's about to break and they know the rough position of the place. Our only chance is to use decoys. Even You-Know-Who can't split himself into seven.'

Harry caught Hermione's eye and looked away at once.

'So, Potter, some of your hair, if you please.'

With all of their eyes upon him, Harry reached up to the top of his head, grabbed a hank of hair, and pulled.

'Good,' said Moody, limping forward as he pulled the stopper out of the flask of potion. 'Straight in here, if you please.'

Harry dropped the hair into the mudlike liquid. The moment it made contact with its surface, the potion began to froth and smoke, then, all at once, it turned a clear, bright gold.

'Ooh, you look much tastier than Crabbe and Goyle, Harry,' said Hermione, before catching sight of Ron's raised eyebrows, blushing slightly, and saying, 'Oh, you know what I mean…Goyle's potion tasted like bogies.'

'Right then, fake Potters line up over here, please,' said Moody.

Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Mundungus and Fleur lined up in front of Aunt Petunia's gleaming sink.

'As you might've noticed,' said Moody, 'There's one problem. Kitty will be going with Remus and George on a thestral. George will be looking like Potter; therefore You Know Who might think that it's the real Potter, since Kitty will be there with him, so…'

'It's alright, Mad-eye,' said Remus, 'I can handle this.'

'Fine,' growled Moody pulling half a dozen eggcup-sized glasses from inside his cloak, which he handed out, before pouring a little Polyjuice Potion into each one.

'Altogether, then ...'

Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Fleur, and Mundungus drank. All of them gasped and grimaced as the potion hit their throats; At once, their features began to bubble and distort like hot wax. Hermione and Mundungus were shooting upward; Ron, Fred, and George were shrinking; their hair was darkening, Hermione's and Fleur's appearing to shoot backward into their skulls.

Moody, quite unconcerned, was now loosening the ties of the large sacks he had brought with him. When he straightened up again, there were six Harry Potters gasping and panting in front of him.

Fred and George turned to each other and said together, 'Wow, we're identical!'

'I dunno, though, I think I'm still better-looking,' said Fred, examining his reflection in the kettle.

'Bah,' said Fleur, checking herself in the microwave door, 'Bill, don't look at me, I'm 'ideous.'

'You look a darn sight better,' snapped Kitty.

'Those whose clothes are a bit roomy, I've got smaller here,' said Moody, indicating the first sack, 'and vice versa. Don't forget the glasses, there's six pairs in the side pocket. And when you're dressed, there's luggage in the other sack.'

The real Harry thought that this might just be the most bizarre thing he had ever seen, and he had seen some extremely odd things. He watched as his six doppelgangers rummaged in the sacks, pulling out sets of clothes, putting on glasses, stuffing their own things away. He felt like asking them to show a little more respect for privacy as they all began stripping off with impunity, clearly more at ease with displaying his body than they would have been with their own.

'I knew Ginny was lying about that tattoo,' said Ron, looking down at his bare chest.

'Harry, your eyesight really is awful,' said Hermione, as she put on glasses.

Once dressed, the fake Harrys took rucksacks and owl cages, each containing a stuffed snowy owl, from the second sack.

'Good,' said Moody, as at last seven dressed, bespectacled, and luggage-laden Harrys faced him. "The pairs will be as follows: Mundungus will be traveling with me, by broom, Arthur and Fred,'

'I'm George,' said the twin at whom Moody was pointing. 'Can't you even tell us apart when we're Harry?'

'Sorry, George…'

'I'm only yanking your wand, I'm Fred really.'

'Enough messing around!' snarled Moody. 'The other one, whoever you are, you're with Remus and Kitty on a thestral. Miss Delacour…'

'I'm taking Fleur on a thestral,' said Bill. 'She's not that fond of brooms.'

Fleur walked over to stand beside him, giving him a soppy, slavish look that Harry hoped with all his heart would never appear on his face again.

'Miss Granger with Kingsley, again by thestral,'

Hermione looked reassured as she answered Kingsley's smile; Kitty knew that Hermione too lacked confidence on a broomstick.

'Which leaves you and me, Ron!' said Tonks brightly, knocking over a mug tree as she waved at him.

Ron did not look quite as pleased as Hermione.

'An' you're with me, Harry. That all righ'?' said Hagrid, looking a little anxious. 'We'll be on the bike, brooms an' thestrals can't take me weight, see. Not a lot o' room on the seat with me on it, though, so you'll be in the sidecar.'

'That's great,' said Harry, not altogether truthfully.

'We think the Death Eaters will expect you to be on a broom,' said Moody, who seemed to guess how Harry was feeling. 'Snape's had plenty of time to tell them everything about you he's never mentioned before, so if we do run into any Death Eaters, we're betting they'll choose one of the Potters who looks at home on a broomstick. All right then,' he went on, tying up the sack with the fake Potters' clothes in it and leading the way back to the door, 'I make it three minutes until we're supposed to leave. No point locking the back door, it won't keep the Death Eaters out when they come looking. Come on ...'

Harry hurried to gather his rucksack, Firebolt, and Hedwig's cage and followed the group to the dark back garden.

On every side broomsticks were leaping into hands; Hermione had already been helped up onto a great black thestral by Kingsley, Fleur onto another by Bill, and Kitty onto a third by Remus. Hagrid was standing ready beside the motorbike, goggles on.

'Is this it? Is this Sirius's bike?'

'The very same,' said Hagrid, beaming down at Harry. 'An' the last time yeh was on it, Harry, I could fit yeh in one hand!'

Harry could not help but feel a little humiliated as he got into the sidecar. It placed him several feet below everybody else: Ron smirked at the sight of him sitting there like a child in a bumper car. Harry stuffed his rucksack and broomstick down by his feet and rammed Hedwig's cage between his knees. He was extremely uncomfortable.

'Arthur's done a bit o' tinkerin',' said Hagrid, quite oblivious to Harry's discomfort. He settled himself astride the motorcycle, which creaked slightly and sank inches into the ground. 'It's got a few tricks up its sleeves now. Tha' one was my idea.' He pointed a thick finger at a purple button near the speedometer.

'Please be careful, Hagrid,' said Mr. Kitty. Hagrid nodded.

'All right, then.' said Moody. 'Everyone ready, please. I want us all to leave at exactly the same time or the whole point of the diversion's lost.'

Everybody motioned their heads. 'Hold tight now, Ron,' said Tonks, and Kitty saw Ron throw a forcing, guilty look at Remus before placing his hands on each side of her waist. Hagrid kicked the motorbike into life: It roared like a dragon, and the sidecar began to vibrate.

'Good luck, everyone,' shouted Moody. 'See you all in about an hour at the Burrow. On the count of three. One ... two . THREE.'

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	4. Chapter 4

Snape's Curse

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hp.

There was a great roar from the motorbike, and Kitty saw it rising into the air. Next thing she knew, the thestral, she was riding, opened its wings and took off from the ground. She took a last look at Harry, as the thestral rose higher.

They flew for about ten minutes towards the east, without being followed. Kitty was starting to think that they get safely to Grimmauld Place, but before she knew it, there was a nasty crack. And then, out of nowhere, out of nothing, they were surrounded. Four hooded figures, suspended in midair, were flying alongside the thestral.

The Death Eaters were shooting jets of light at them. Remus was dueling with two of them simultaneously, while George was handling another. Kitty whipped out her wand and shouted, 'Stupefy!' at the nearest one.

He blocked the spell with a lazy flick of his wand though the force of Kitty's spell had made his hood fall back. With a shock Kitty looked into the face of the Death Eater. It was Snape. For a split second, Kitty stared at Snape who stared back at her.

Then, George who had stunned the Death Eater he was previously dueling with, turned to Snape. He made a slashing movement with his wand, but before he could strike Snape, the latter had hit George with the Sectumsempra Curse.

Gashes appeared all over George, and Kitty caught him just in time, for he was about to fall off the thestral. Kitty didn't know what to do; George was unconscious and was bleeding profusely.

'Stupefy!' shouted Kitty, pointing her wand at a hooded figure that had raised his wand and was pointing it at Kitty. The jinx hit the middle Death Eater in the chest; for a moment the man was absurdly spread-eagled in midair as though he had hit an invisible barrier. Then he fell into the darkness below.

Just then, she felt an almighty lurch and the thestral began descending. Kitty could no more see the Death Eaters.

'Remus, do something,' said Kitty frantically, gesturing to George.

Remus was already muttering a spell, that sounded like a song, and the gashes on George's body started healing.

'Tergeo!' said Kitty and the dried blood on George's body vanished. Remus was still muttering the songlike incantation.

Kitty looked at George's face and gasped. One of George's ears was missing. The side of his head and neck were drenched in wet, shockingly scarlet blood.

The thestral had landed. Remus and Kitty half carried, half dragged George between them who had now completely transformed back into himself. Remus flung open the door of Grimmauld Place, and went inside.

'Accio Portkey!' he shouted, and an innocent looking book came flying out towards them. Remus and Kitty grabbed the book, clutching George tightly between them. Kitty felt a jerk behind her navel as though an invisible hook and line had dragged her forward and knew that the Portkey had worked.

A second later, Kitty's feet slammed onto hard ground, and she fell onto her hands and knees in the Burrow's garden. George was now waking up. Remus got to his feet, and hoisted one of George's arms onto his neck and pulled him up. Kitty could see Mrs. Weasley, Ginny and Harry rush forward towards them. Kitty flew at Harry and hugged him.

'You're the real Harry, aren't you?' she said.

'Yeah,' said Harry, looking at George, 'What happened to him?'

'He lost an ear,' said Kitty mournfully, 'Snape got him. The Sectumsempra curse.'

'Snape?' said Harry furiously.

Kitty nodded and said, 'But tell me, is everyone back? And what happened to you? Where's Hagrid?'

'Let's go inside,' said Harry, 'We'll tell you everything.'

They went into the house, where George lay on a sofa in the living room. No sooner had Mrs. Weasley bent over her son that Remus grabbed Harry by the upper arm and dragged him, none too gently, back into the kitchen, where Hagrid was still attempting to ease his bulk through the back door.

'What…' said Kitty following them.

'What creature sat in the corner the first time that Harry Potter visited my office at Hogwarts?' Remus said, giving Harry a small shake. 'Answer me!'

Kitty stared at Remus as though she had never seen him before.

'A grindylow in a tank wasn't it?' said Harry uncertainly.

Remus released Harry and fell back against a kitchen cupboard.

'Wha' was tha' about?' roared Hagrid.

'I'm sorry, Harry, but I had to check,' said Remus tersely. 'We've been betrayed. Voldemort knew that you were being moved tonight and the only people who could have told him were directly involved in the plan. You might have been an impostor.'

'So why aren' you checkin' me?' panted Hagrid, still struggling with the door.

'You're half-giant,' said Remus, looking up at Hagrid. 'The Polyjuice Potion is designed for human use only.'

'None of the Order would have told Voldemort we were moving tonight,' said Harry. The idea was dreadful to him; he could not believe it of any of them. 'Voldemort only caught up with me toward the end, he didn't know which one I was in the beginning. If he'd been in on the plan he'd have known from the start I was the one with Hagrid.'

'Voldemort caught up with you?' said Kitty sharply. 'What happened? How did you escape?'

Harry explained how the Death Eaters pursuing them had seemed to recognize him as the true Harry, how they had abandoned the chase, how they must have summoned Voldemort, who had appeared just before he and Hagrid had reached the sanctuary of Tonks's parents.

'They recognized you? But how? What had you done?'

'I...' Harry tried to remember; the whole journey seemed like a blur of panic and confusion. 'I saw Stan Shunpike... You know, the bloke who was the conductor on the Knight Bus? And I tried to Disarm him instead of… well, he doesn't know what he's doing, does he? He must be Imperiused!'

Remus looked aghast.

'Harry, the time for Disarming is past! These people are trying to capture and kill you! At least Stun if you aren't prepared to kill!'

'We were hundreds of feet up! Stan's not himself, and if I Stunned him and he'd fallen, he'd have died the same as if I'd used Avada Kedavra! Expelliarmus saved me from Voldemort two years ago,' Harry added defiantly.

'Yes, Harry,' said Remus with painful restraint, 'and a great number of Death Eaters witnessed that happening! Forgive me, but it was a very unusual move then, under the imminent threat of death. Repeating it tonight in front of Death Eaters who either witnessed or heard about the first occasion was close to suicidal!'

'So you think I should have killed Stan Shunpike?' said Harry angrily.

'Of course not," said Remus, 'but the Death Eaters would have expected you to attack back! Expelliarmus is a useful spell, Harry, but the Death Eaters seem to think it is your signature move, and I urge you not to let it become so!'

Remus was making Harry feel idiotic, and yet there was still a grain of defiance inside him.

'I won't blast people out of my way just because they're there,' said Harry, 'That's Voldemort's job.'

Remus's retort was lost: Finally succeeding in squeezing through the door, Hagrid staggered to a chair and sat down; it collapsed beneath him. Ignoring his mingled oaths and apologies, Harry addressed Remus again.

'Will George be okay?'

All Remus's frustration with Harry seemed to drain away at the question.

'I think so, although there's no chance of replacing his ear, not when it's been cursed off…'

There was a scuffling from outside. Remus dived for the back door; Harry and Kitty leapt over Hagrid's legs and sprinted into the yard.

Two figures had appeared in the yard, and as Harry ran toward them he realized they were Hermione, now returning to her normal appearance, and Kingsley, both clutching a bent coat hanger, Hermione flung herself into Harry's arms, but Kingsley showed no pleasure at the sight of any of them. Over Hermione's shoulder Harry saw him raise his wand and point it at Remus's chest.

'The last words Albus Dumbledore spoke to the pair of us!'

'Harry is the best hope we have. Trust him,' said Remus calmly.

Kingsley turned his wand on Kitty, and said, 'What form does your Animagus take?'

'A leopard cub,' said Kitty nervously.

'All right, all right!' said Kingsley, stowing his wand back beneath his cloak, 'But somebody betrayed us! They knew, they knew it was tonight!'

'So it seems,' replied Remus, 'but apparently they did not realize that there would be seven Harrys.'

'Small comfort!' snarled Kingsley. 'Who else is back?'

'Only Harry, Hagrid, George, and me.'

Hermione stifled a little moan behind her hand. Kitty put a hand on her shoulder.

'What happened to you?' Remus asked Kingsley.

'Followed by five, injured two, might've killed one,' Kingsley reeled off, 'and we saw You-Know-Who as well, he joined the chase halfway through but vanished pretty quickly. Remus, he can…'

'Fly,' supplied Harry. 'I saw him too, he came after Hagrid and me.'

'So that's why he left, to follow you!' said Kingsley, 'I couldn't understand why he'd vanished. But what made him change targets?'

'Harry behaved a little too kindly to Stan Shunpike,' said Remus.

'And what happened to you, Remus? Where's George?' continued Kingsley.

'He lost an ear,' said Remus.

'Lost an…' repeated Hermione in a high voice.

'Snape's work,' said Remus.

'Snape?' shouted Kingsley.

'He lost his hood during the chase. Sectumsempra was always a specialty of Snape's. I wish I could say I'd paid him back in kind, but it was all I could do to keep George on the thestral after he was injured, he was losing so much blood.'

Silence fell between the five of them as they walked back to the house. Kitty was feeling very anxious. Where was Ron? Where were Fred and Mr. Weasley? Where were Bill, Fleur, Tonks, Mad-Eye, and Mundungus?

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	5. Chapter 5

Fallen Warrior

**Disclaimer:** I'm not Rowling.

'Did I hear someone else in the yard?' Ginny asked.

'Hermione and Kingsley,' said Harry.

'Thank goodness,' Ginny whispered. They looked at each other; Harry wanted to hug her, hold on to her; he did not even care much that Mrs. Weasley was there, but before he could act on the impulse, there was a great crash from the kitchen.

'I'll prove who I am, Kingsley, after I've seen my son, now back off if you know what's good for you!'

Kitty had never heard Mr. Weasley shout like that before. He burst into the living room, his bald patch gleaming with sweat, his spectacles askew, Fred right behind him, both pale but uninjured.

'Arthur!' sobbed Mrs. Weasley. 'Oh thank goodness!'

'How is he?'

Mr. Weasley dropped to his knees beside George. For the first time since Kitty had known him, Fred seemed to be lost for words. He gaped over the back of the sofa at his twin's wound as if he could not believe what he was seeing.

Perhaps roused by the sound of Fred and their father's arrival, George stirred.

'How do you feel, Georgie?' whispered Mrs. Weasley.

George's fingers groped for the side of his head.

'Saintlike,' he murmured.

'What's wrong with him?' croaked Fred, looking terrified. 'Is his mind affected?'

'Saintlike,' repeated George, opening his eyes and looking up at his twin. 'You see... I'm holy. Holey, Fred, geddit?'

Mrs. Weasley sobbed harder than ever. Color flooded Fred's pale face.

'Pathetic,' he told George. 'Pathetic! With the whole wide world of ear-related humor before you, you go for holey?'

'Ah well,' said George, grinning at his tear-soaked mother. 'You'll be able to tell us apart now, anyway, Mum.'

He looked around.

'Why aren't Ron and Bill huddled round my sickbed?' said George.

'They're not back yet, George,' said Mrs. Weasley. George's grin faded. Harry glanced at Ginny and motioned to her to accompany him back outside. As they walked through the kitchen she said in a low voice.

'Ron and Tonks should be back by now. They didn't have a long journey; Auntie Muriel's not that far from here.'

Harry said nothing. He had been trying to keep fear at bay ever since reaching the Burrow, but now it enveloped him, seeming to crawl over his skin, throbbing in his chest, clogging his throat. As they walked down the back steps into the dark yard, Ginny took his hand.

Kingsley was striding backward and forward, glancing up at the sky every time he turned. Hagrid, Hermione, Kitty and Remus stood shoulder to shoulder, gazing upward in silence. None of them looked around when Harry and Ginny joined their silent vigil.

And then a broom materialized directly above them and streaked toward the ground.

'It's them!' screamed Hermione.

Tonks landed in a long skid that sent earth and pebbles everywhere.

'Remus!' Tonks cried as she staggered off the broom into Remus's arms. His face was set and white: He seemed unable to speak, Ron tripped dazedly toward Harry and Hermione.

'You're okay,' he mumbled, before Hermione flew at him and hugged him tightly.

'I thought …I thought …'

'I'm all right,' said Ron, patting her on the back. 'I'm fine.'

'Ron was great,' said Tonks warmly, relinquishing her hold on Remus. 'Wonderful. Stunned one of the Death Eaters, straight to the head, and when you're aiming at a moving target from a flying broom…'

'You did?' said Hermione, gazing up at Ron with her arms still around his neck.

'Always the tone of surprise,' he said a little grumpily, breaking free. 'Are we the last back?'

'No,' said Ginny, 'we're still waiting for Bill and Fleur and Mad-Eye and Mundungus. I'm going to tell Mum and Dad you're okay, Ron.'

She ran back inside.

'So what kept you? What happened?' Remus sounded almost angry at Tonks.

'Bellatrix,' said Tonks. 'She wants me quite as much as she wants Harry, Remus; she tried very hard to kill me. I just wish I'd got her, I owe Bellatrix. But we definitely injured Rodolphus... Then we got to Ron's Auntie Muriel's and we missed our Portkey and she was fussing over us…'

A muscle was jumping in Remus's jaw. He nodded, but seemed unable to say anything else.

'So what happened to you lot?' Tonks asked, turning to Harry, Hermione, and Kingsley.

They recounted the stories of their own journeys, but all the time the continued absence of Bill, Fleur, Mad-Eye, and Mundungus seemed to lie upon them like a frost, its icy bite harder and harder to ignore.

'I'm going to have to get back to Downing Street, I should have been there an hour ago,' said Kingsley finally, after a last sweeping gaze at the sky. 'Let me know when they're back.'

Remus nodded. With a wave to the others, Kingsley walked away into the darkness toward the gate. Kitty thought she heard the faintest pop as Kingsley Disapparated just beyond the Burrow's boundaries.

Mr. And Mrs. Weasley came racing down the back steps, Ginny behind them. Both parents hugged Ron before turning to Remus and Tonks.

'Thank you,' said Mrs. Weasley, 'for our sons.'

'Don't be silly, Molly,' said Tonks at once.

'How's George?' asked Remus.

'What's wrong with him?' piped up Ron.

'He's lost…'

But the end of Mrs. Weasley's sentence was drowned in a general outcry. A thestral had just soared into sight and landed a few feet from them. Bill and Fleur slid from its back, windswept but unhurt.

'Bill! Thank God, thank God.'

Mrs. Weasley ran forward, but the hug Bill bestowed upon her was perfunctory. Looking directly at his father, he said, 'Mad-Eye's dead.'

Nobody spoke, nobody moved.

'We saw it,' said Bill; Fleur nodded; tear tracks glittering on her cheeks in the light from the kitchen window. 'It happened just after we broke out of the circle: Mad-Eye and Dung were close by us, they were heading north too. Voldemort, he can fly, he went straight for them. Dung panicked, I heard him cry out, Mad-Eye tried to stop him, but he Disapparated. Voldemort's curse hit Mad-Eye full in the face, he fell backward off his broom and there was nothing we could do, nothing, we had half a dozen of them on our own tail…'

Bill's voice broke.

'Of course you couldn't have done anything,' said Remus.

In silence everyone followed Mr. And Mrs. Weasley back into the Burrow, and into the living room, where Fred and George were laughing together.

'What's wrong?' said Fred, scanning their faces as they entered, 'What's happened? Who's…?'

'Mad-Eye,' said Mr. Weasley, 'Dead.'

The twins' grins turned to grimaces of shock. Nobody seemed to know what to do. Tonks was crying silently into a handkerchief. Hagrid, who had sat down on the floor in the corner where he had most space, was dabbing at his eyes with his tablecloth-sized handkerchief.

Bill walked over to the sideboard and pulled out a bottle of fire-whisky and some glasses.

'Here,' he said, and with a wave of his wand, eh sent thirteen full glasses soaring through the room to each of them, holding the fourteenth aloft. 'Mad-Eye.'

'Mad-Eye,' they all said, and drank.

'So Mundungus disappeared?' said Remus, who had drained his own glass in one.

'I know what you're thinking,' said Bill, 'and I wondered that too, on the way back here, because they seemed to be expecting us, didn't they? But Mundungus can't have betrayed us. They didn't know there would be seven Harrys, that confused them the moment we appeared, and in case you've forgotten, it was Mundungus who suggested that little bit of skullduggery. Why wouldn't he have told them the essential point? I think Dung panicked, it's as simple as that. He didn't want to come in the first place, but Mad-Eye made him, and You-Know-Who went straight for them. It was enough to make anyone panic.'

'You-Know-Who acted exactly as Mad-Eye expected him to,' sniffed Tonks. 'Mad-Eye said he'd expect the real Harry to be with the toughest, most skilled Aurors. He chased Mad-Eye first, and when Mundungus gave them away he switched to Kingsley...'

'Yes, and zat eez all very good,' snapped Fleur, 'but still eet does not explain 'ow zey know we were moving 'Arry tonight, does eet? Somebody must 'ave been careless. Somebody let slip ze date to an outsider. It is ze only explanation for zem knowing ze date but not ze 'ole plan.'

She glared around at them all; tear tracks still etched on her beautiful face, silently daring any of them to contradict her. Nobody did. The only sound to break the silence was that of Hagrid hiccupping from behind his handkerchief.

'No,' said Harry and they all looked at him, surprised: The firewhisky seemed to have amplified his voice. 'I mean... if somebody made a mistake,' Harry went on, 'and let something slip, I know they didn't mean to do it. It's not their fault,' he repeated, again a little louder than he would usually have spoken. 'We've got to trust each other. I trust all of you, I don't think anyone in this room would ever sell me to Voldemort.'

'Well said, Harry,' said Fred unexpectedly.

' 'ear, 'ear,' said George, with half a glance at Fred, the corner of whose mouth twitched.

Remus was wearing an odd expression as he looked at Harry. It was close to pitying.

'You think I'm a fool?' demanded Harry.

'No, I think you're like James,' said Remus, 'who would have regarded it as the height of dishonor to mistrust his friends.'

Remus turned to Bill and said, 'Well, then I'd better…'

'I'll come with you,' said Bill.

'Where are you going?' said Kitty, Tonks and Fleur together.

'Mad-Eye's body,' said Remus. 'We need to recover it.'

'Can't it…' began Mrs. Weasley with an appealing look at Bill.

'Wait?' said Bill, 'Not unless you'd rather the Death Eaters took it?'

Nobody spoke. Remus and Bill said good bye and left.

The rest of them now dropped into chairs, all except for Harry, who remained standing. The suddenness and completeness of death was with them like a presence.

'I've got to go too,' said Harry.

Eleven pairs of startled eyes looked at him.

'Don't be silly, Harry,' said Kitty, 'What are you talking about?'

'I can't stay here.'

He rubbed his forehead; it was prickling again, he had not hurt like this for more than a year.

'You're all in danger while I'm here. I don't want…'

'But don't be so silly!' said Mrs. Weasley. 'The whole point of tonight was to get you here safely, and thank goodness it worked. And Fleur's agreed to get married here rather than in France, we've arranged everything so that we can all stay together and look after you…'

She did not understand; she was making him feel worse, not better.

'If Voldemort finds out I'm here…'

'Fine,' said Kitty, 'I'm coming with you too.'

'Alright,' said Harry, 'I won't stop you.'

'Now wait a minute!' said Mrs. Weasley.

'There are a dozen places you might be now, Harry,' said Mr. Weasley. 'He's got no way of knowing which safe house you're in.'

'It's not me I'm worried for!' said Harry.

'We know that,' said Mr. Weasley quietly, 'but it would make our efforts tonight seem rather pointless if you left.'

'Yer not goin' anywhere,' growled Hagrid. 'Blimey, Harry, after all we wen' through ter get you here?'

'Yeah, what about my bleeding ear?' said George, hoisting himself up on his cushions.

'I know that…'

'Mad-Eye wouldn't want…'

'I KNOW!' Harry bellowed.

He felt beleaguered and blackmailed: Did they think he did not know what they had done for him, didn't they understand that it was for precisely that reason that he wanted to go now, before they had to suffer any more on his behalf? There was a long and awkward silence in which his scar continued to prickle and throb, and which was broken at last by Mrs. Weasley.

'Where's Hedwig, Harry?' she said coaxingly. 'We can put her up with Pidwidgeon and give her something to eat.'

His insides clenched like a fist. He could not tell her the truth. He drank the last of his firewhisky to avoid answering.

'Wait till it gets out yeh did it again, Harry,' said Hagrid. 'Escaped him, fought him off when he was right on top of yeh!'

'It wasn't me,' said Harry flatly. 'It was my wand. My wand acted of its own accord.'

After a few moments, Kitty said gently, 'But that's impossible, Harry. You mean that you did magic without meaning to; you reacted instinctively.'

'No,' said Harry. 'The bike was falling, I couldn't have told you where Voldemort was, but my wand spun in my hand and found him and shot a spell at him, and it wasn't even a spell I recognized. I've never made gold flames appear before.'

'Often,' said Mr. Weasley, 'when you're in a pressured situation you can produce magic you never dreamed of. Small children often find, before they're trained…'

'It wasn't like that,' said Harry through gritted teeth. His scar was burning. He felt angry and frustrated; he hated the idea that they were all imagining him to have power to match Voldemort's. No one said anything. He knew that they did not believe him. Now that he came to think of it, he had never heard of a wand performing magic on its own before.

Muttering about fresh air, he set down his glass and left the room.

'Go with him, Kitty dear,' said Mrs. Weasley, afraid that Harry would run away. Kitty nodded and followed Harry.

She kept a little behind him, knowing that he wouldn't want to talk to anyone at the moment.

Harry was thinking about Dumbledore. Dumbledore would have believed him, he knew it. Dumbledore would have known how and why Harry's wand had acted independently, because Dumbledore always had the answers; he had known about wands, had explained to Harry the strange connection that existed between his wand and Voldemort's... But Dumbledore, like Mad-Eye, like Sirius, like his parents, like his poor owl, all were gone where Harry could never talk to them again. He felt a burning in his throat that had nothing to do with firewhisky...

And then, out of nowhere, the pain in his scar peaked. As he clutched his forehead and closed his eyes, a voice screamed inside his head.

'You told me the problem would be solved by using another's wand!'

And into his mind burst the vision of an emaciated old man lying in rags upon a stone floor, screaming, a horrible drawn-out scream, a scream of unendurable agony...

'No! No! I beg you, I beg you...'

'You lied to Lord Voldemort, Ollivander!'

'I did not... I swear I did not...'

'You sought to help Potter, to help him escape me!'

'I swear I did not... I believed a different wand would work...'

'Explain, then, what happened. Lucius's wand is destroyed!'

'I cannot understand... The connection... exists only between your two wands...'

'Lies!'

'Please... I beg you...'

And Harry saw the white hand raise its wand and felt Voldemort's surge of vicious anger, saw the frail old main on the floor writhe in agony…

'Harry?'

It was over as quickly as it had come: Harry stood shaking in the darkness, clutching the gate into the garden, his heart racing, his scar still tingling. It was several moments before he realized that Kitty, Ron and Hermione were at his side.

'Harry, come back in the house,' Hermione whispered, 'You aren't still thinking of leaving?'

'Yeah, you've got to stay, mate,' said Ron, thumping Harry on the back.

'Are you all right?' Kitty asked, close enough now to look into Harry's face. 'You look awful!'

'Well,' said Harry shakily, 'I probably look better than Ollivander...'

When he had finished telling them what he had seen, Ron looked appalled, but Hermione and Kitty downright terrified.

'But it was supposed to have stopped! Your scar… it wasn't supposed to do this anymore! You mustn't let that connection open up again. Dumbledore wanted you to close your mind!' said Hermione.

When he did not reply, Kitty gripped his arm.

'Harry, he's taking over the Ministry and the newspapers and half the Wizarding world! Don't let him inside your head too!' she said.

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	6. Chapter 6

The Ghoul in Pajamas

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hp.

'Hey, Kitty,' said Remus, one morning, 'Can I talk to you for a second?'

'Sure,' said Kitty, following him into the empty living room.

'So, Kitty,' began Remus, 'I want to know where Harry, Ron, Hermione are going after Fleur's wedding. What are you off to do?'

'Well,' said Kitty, 'Dumbledore left Harry…stuff to do.'

'What stuff?' said Remus.

'I'm really sorry Remus,' said Kitty, 'But I can't tell you that. Dumbledore told Harry not to tell anyone except Ron, Hermione and me.'

'But,' continued Remus, 'I'm your godfather. I think you owe me an explanation.'

'I know, Remus. But I'm really sorry. I can't tell you,' said Kitty.

'The whole Order is there to do anything Dumbledore has asked Harry to do. I don't see why…'

'It's got to be Harry,' said Kitty.

'But you're not of age, Kitty,' said Remus, 'you can't just go off without telling anyone. You can't even do magic as you have the Trace on you.'

'I know,' said Kitty, 'But you said that Harry and I shouldn't be separated, or else, Voldemort might capture me to bait Harry.'

'Yes, that's true,' said Remus, 'But…'

'Remus, it's no use,' said Kitty flatly, 'I can't tell you where and for what I'm going, and I have to go.'

'Okay,' said Remus giving in, 'but listen, keep your diary with you all the time. Just in case, okay?'

Kitty nodded.

Just then, Mrs. Weasley entered the living room.

'Oh there you are, Kitty dear!' she said, glancing at Remus, 'Would you help us with the preparations for the wedding?'

'What? Oh, yes of course,' said Kitty disconcerted.

From that moment on, Mrs. Weasley kept Harry, Kitty, Ron and Hermione so busy with preparations for the wedding that they hardly had any time to think. The kindest explanation of this behavior would have been that Mrs. Weasley wanted to distract them all from thoughts of Mad-Eye and the terrors of their recent journey. After two days of nonstop cutlery cleaning, of de-gnoming the garden and helping Mrs. Weasley cook vast batches of snacks, however, Kitty started to suspect her of a different motive. All the jobs she handed out seemed to keep her, Harry, Ron, and Hermione away from one another; he had not had a chance to speak to the three of them alone since the first night, when he had told them about Voldemort torturing Ollivander.

They had not been able to hold a funeral for Moody, because Bill and Lupin had failed to recover his body. It had been difficult to know where he might have fallen, given the darkness and the confusion of the battle.

'We must decide 'ow you both will be disguised,' said Fleur, at lunch. 'For ze wedding,' she added, when Kitty looked confused. 'Of course, none of our guests are Death Eaters, but we cannot guarantee zat zey will not let something slip after zey 'ave 'ad champagne.'

From this, Kitty gathered that she still suspected Hagrid.

'Yes, good point,' said Mrs. Weasley from the top of the table where she sat, spectacles perched on the end of her nose, scanning an immense list of jobs that she had scribbled on a very long piece of parchment. 'Now, Ron, have you cleaned out your room yet?'

'Why?' exclaimed Ron, slamming his spoon down and glaring at his mother. 'Why does my room have to be cleaned out? Harry and I are fine with it the way it is!'

'We are holding your brother's wedding here in a few days' time, young man…'

'And are they getting married in my bedroom?' asked Ron furiously. 'No! So why in the name of Merlin's…'

'Don't talk to your mother like that,' said Mr. Weasley firmly. 'And do as you're told.'

Ron scowled at both his parents, then picked up his spoon and attacked the last few mouthfuls of his apple tart.

'I can help, some of it's my mess,' Harry told Ron, but Mrs. Weasley cut across him.

'No, Harry, dear, I'd much rather you helped Arthur with the chickens, and Hermione, I'd be ever so grateful if you'd change the sheets for Monsieur and Madame Delacour; you know they're arriving at eleven tomorrow morning.'

After lunch, Mrs. Weasley was nowhere to be seen, so Harry slipped upstairs to Ron's attic bedroom.

'I'm doing it, I'm doing! Oh, it's you,' said Ron in relief, as Harry entered the room. Ron lay back down on the bed, which he had evidently just vacated. The room was just as messy as it had been all week; the only chance was that Hermione was now sitting in the far corner, her fluffy ginger cat, Crookshanks, at her feet, sorting books, some of which Harry recognized as his own, into two enormous piles.

'Hi, Harry,' she said, as he sat down on his camp bed.

'And how did you manage to get away?'

'Oh, Ron's mum forgot that she asked Ginny and me to change the sheets yesterday,' said Hermione.

Jus then, Kitty entered the room.

'Just got away. Fleur and I were supposed to clear up after lunch, but Fleur did it in about a minute. So I came up here,' said Kitty.

'Listen, Harry,' said Kitty, 'Remus says that I have the Trace on me. So I won't be able to do magic, while I'm with you.'

'I don't think so, Kat,' said Harry, 'You see, Dumbledore told me that the Ministry can only detect magic, not the caster of the magic. He said that it depended on the parents to see that their child does not do magic away from school. The Ministry caught me last to last year, because I was the only wizard in an muggle district. And I don't think that we'll be going into any muggle district. So, you should be safe doing magic, out of school.'

'Good,' said Kitty, 'Imagine not doing magic for so long.'

'And, one more thing,' said Harry, 'that two way mirror of yours, the one with which you talk to Vandyll, when you aren't using it, keep it covered with a cloth or something. Because if someone else looks into it, they can see where we are. For all we know, most of the Slytherins are Death eaters by now.'

'Yeah,' said Ron, 'I bet Malfoy'd give anything to find out where we are and turn us in to Voldemort.'

Harry and Kitty looked at one another. They had not told them about Malfoy's true loyalty.

'Ron,' said Harry slowly, 'it so happens that I know that Malfoy is not on Voldemort's side.'

'What're you talking about?' said Hermione, 'Last year, you were the one who kept saying that he's a Death Eater. And not to forget, he was the one who let in the Death Eaters last year into Hogwarts.'

'Yes,' said Harry, 'but I know that he's a spy.'

Ron and Hermione stared at them. Without further ado, Harry told them what he had heard Malfoy say to Dumbledore last year in his office.

'You're barking,' said Ron, 'Have you forgotten that this is Malfoy we are talking about?'

Kitty cleared her throat loudly and looked coldly at him.

'Kitty, I know that you fancy him, but…'

'Ron, Malfoy is a spy. He's on our side,' said Harry firmly. He still felt very guilty that he had not believed kitty when she had told him that Malfoy was not bad.

'I believe you,' said Hermione.

Ron gaped at her.

'But…but…'

Kitty raised her eyebrows.

'But Dumbledore was the only one who knew that Malfoy was a spy,' said Ron, 'and now he's dead, so how do we know for sure that he's on our side?'

'Dumbledore isn't the only one who knew,' said Kitty, 'I told Remus. Also, I told…Snape.'

'Snape?' said harry aghast, 'You told Snape? But then, Snape will tell Voldemort that Malfoy's a spy, and Voldemort will…'

'No,' said Kitty, 'I don't think so. Malfoy's whole family are Death Eaters. They're purebloods. They're Slytherins. They hate you, Harry. I don't think Voldemort will believe Snape without proof.'

'Proof?' said Harry, 'You think he will wait for proof? Voldemort can kill Malfoy for no reason, do you think he will wait for proof?'

'You know, I think she's right,' said Hermione, 'If Snape had to tell Voldemort, he would have done so already. And Voldemort would have already killed Malfoy. We would've read about it in the papers. The Malfoys are very old and famous Wizarding families. The death of the one and only Malfoy heir, would have been an important story. It would have hit the headlines.'

'But then,' said Ron, speaking after a long time, 'But then, what's Snape waiting for. Why hasn't he tld Voldemort?'

'Maybe he thinks that if he tells him, Voldemort will ask him how he knows? I don't think Snape would want to tell Voldemort that I told him that. After all, Snape must have told him how much you hate him, Harry. And Voldemort might find it suspicious that I didn't hate him,' said Kitty, 'After all, I think Voldemort has more reason to doubt Snape than he has to doubt Malfoy. After all, Snape was even in the Order. Malfoy wasn't.'

'Yeah maybe,' said harry looking at Hermione, who was carrying a pile of heavy books. 'What're you doing with all those books?'

'Just trying to decide which ones to take with us,' said Hermione, 'When we're looking for the Horcruxes.'

'Oh, of course,' said Ron, clapping a hand to his forehead. 'I forgot we'll be hunting down Voldemort in a mobile library.'

'Ha ha,' said Hermione, looking down at Spellman's Syllabary. 'I wonder... will we need to translate runes? It's possible... I think we'd better take it, to be safe.'

She dropped the syllabary onto the larger of the two piles and picked up Hogwarts, A History.

'Listen,' said Harry.

He had sat up straight. Ron and Hermione looked at him with similar mixtures of resignation and defiance.

'I know you said after Dumbledore's funeral that you wanted to come with me and Kat,' Harry began.

'Here he goes,' Ron said to Hermione, rolling his eyes.

'As we knew he would,' she sighed, turning back to the books. 'You know, I think I will take Hogwarts, A History. Even if we're not going back there, I don't think I'd feel right if I didn't have it with me.'

'Listen!' said Harry again.

'No, Harry, you listen,' said Hermione. 'We're coming with you. That was decided months ago, years, really.'

'But…'

'Shut up,' Ron advised him.

'Are you sure you've thought this through?' Harry persisted.

'Let's see,' said Hermione, slamming Travels with Trolls onto the discarded pile with a rather fierce look. 'I've been packing for days, so we're ready to leave at a moment's notice, which for your information has included doing some pretty difficult magic, not to mention smuggling Mad-Eye's whole stock of Polyjuice Potion right under Ron's mum's nose.'

'I've also modified my parents' memories so that they're convinced they're really called Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and that their life's ambition is to move to Australia, which they have now done. That's to make it more difficult for Voldemort to track them down and interrogate them about me or you, because unfortunately, I've told them quite a bit about you.'

'Assuming I survive our hunt for the Horcruxes, I'll find Mum and Dad and lift the enchantment. If I don't well, I think I've cast a good enough charm to keep them safe and happy. Wendell and Monica Wilkins don't know that they've got a daughter, you see.'

Hermione's eyes were swimming with tears again. Ron got back off the bed, put his arm around her once more, and frowned at Harry as though reproaching him for lack of tact. Harry could not think of anything to say, not least because it was highly unusual for Ron to be teaching anyone else tact.

'Hermione, I'm sorry… I didn't…'

'Didn't realize that Ron and I know perfectly well what might happen if we come with you? Well, we do. Ron, show Harry and Kitty what you've done.'

'Nah, he's just eaten,' said Ron.

'Go on, he needs to know!'

'Oh, all right. Come here.'

For the second time Ron withdrew his arm from around Hermione and stumped over to the door. Harry and Kitty followed him.

'Descendo,' muttered Ron, pointing his wand at the low ceiling. A hatch opened right over their heads and a ladder slid down to their feet. A horrible, half-sucking, half-moaning sound came out of the square hole, along with an unpleasant smell like open drains.

'That's your ghoul, isn't it?' asked Harry, who had never actually met the creature that sometimes disrupted the nightly silence.

'Yeah, it is,' said Ron, climbing the ladder. 'Come and have a look at him.'

Harry and Kitty followed Ron up the few short steps into the tiny attic space. Kitty caught sight of the creature curled up a few feet from them, fast asleep in the gloom with its large mouth wide open.

'But it... it looks... do ghouls normally wear pajamas?'

'No,' said Ron. 'Nor have they usually got red hair or that number of pustules.'

Kitty contemplated the thing, slightly revolted. It was human in shape and size, and was wearing what, now that Harry's eyes became used to the darkness, was clearly an old pair of Ron's pajamas. She was also sure that ghouls were generally rather slimy and bald, rather than distinctly hairy and covered in angry purple blisters.

'He's me, see?' said Ron.

'No,' said Harry. 'I don't.'

'I'll explain it back in my room, the smell's getting to me,' said Ron. They climbed back down the ladder, which Ron returned to the ceiling, and rejoined Hermione, who was still sorting books.

'Once we've left, the ghoul's going to come and live down here in my room,' said Ron. 'I think he's really looking forward to…well, it's hard to tell, because all he can do is moan and drool, but he nods a lot when you mention it. Anyway, he's going to be me with spattergroit. Good, eh?'

'It is!' said Ron, clearly frustrated that Harry and Kitty had not grasped the brilliance of the plan. 'Look, when we four don't turn up at Hogwarts again, everyone's going to think Hermione and I must be with you, right? Which means the Death Eaters will go straight for our families to see if they've got information on where you are.'

'But hopefully it'll look like I've gone away with Mum and Dad; a lot of Muggle-borns are talking about going into hiding at the moment,' said Hermione.

'We can't hide my whole family, it'll look too fishy and they can't all leave their jobs,' said Ron. 'So we're going to put out the story that I'm seriously ill with spattergroit, which is why I can't go back to school. If anyone comes calling to investigate, Mum or Dad can show them the ghoul in my bed, covered in pustules. Spattergroit's really contagious, so they're not going to want to go near him. It won't matter that he can't say anything, either, because apparently you can't once the fungus has spread to your uvula.'

'And your mum and dad are in on this plan?' asked Kitty.

'Dad is. He helped Fred and George transform the ghoul. Mum... well, you've seen what she's like. She won't accept we're going till we're gone.'

There was silence in the room, broken only by gentle thuds as Hermione continued to throw books onto one pile or the other. Ron sat watching her, and Harry looked at Kitty, unable to say anything. The measure they had taken to protect their families made him realize, more than anything else could have done, that they really were going to come with him and that they knew exactly how dangerous that would be. He wanted to tell them what that meant to him, but he simply could not find words important enough.

Through the silence came the muffled sounds of Mrs. Weasley shouting from four floors below.

'Ginny's probably left a speck of dust on a poxy napkin ring,' said Ron. 'I dunno why the Delacours have got to come two days before the wedding.'

'Fleur's sister's a bridesmaid, she needs to be here for the rehearsal, and she's too young to come on her own,' said Hermione, as she pored indecisively over Break with a Banshee.

'Well, guests aren't going to help Mum's stress levels,' said Ron.

'What we really need to decide,' said Hermione, tossing Defensive Magical Theory into the bin without a second glance and picking up An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe, 'is where we're going after we leave here. I know you said you wanted to go to Godric's Hollow first, Harry, and I understand why, but... well... shouldn't we make the Horcruxes our priority?'

'If we knew where any of the Horcruxes were, I'd agree with you,' said Harry, who did not believe that Hermione really understood his desire to return to Godric's Hollow.

'Don't you think there's a possibility that Voldemort's keeping a watch on Godric's Hollow?' Hermione asked. 'He might expect you to go back and visit your parents' graves once you're free to go wherever you like?'

This had not occurred to Harry. While he struggled to find a counterargument, Ron spoke up, evidently following his own train of thought.

'This R.A.B. person,' he said. 'You know, the one who stole the real locket? He said in his note he was going to destroy it, didn't he? Well, what if he did finish it off?'

'Or she,' interposed Hermione.

'Whichever,' said Ron. 'It'd be one less for us to do!'

'Yes, but we're still going to have to try and trace the real locket, aren't we?' said Hermione, 'to find out whether or not it's destroyed.'

'And once we get hold of it, how do you destroy a Horcrux?' asked Ron.

'Well,' said Hermione, 'I've been researching that.'

'How?' asked Kitty. 'I didn't think there were any books on Horcruxes in the library?'

'There weren't,' said Hermione, who had turned pink. 'Dumbledore removed them all, but he…he didn't destroy them. I just did a Summoning Charm. And they zoomed out of Dumbledore's study window right into the girls' dormitory.'

'But when did you do this?' Harry asked, regarding Hermione with a mixture of admiration and incredulity.

'Just after Dumbledore's funeral,' said Hermione in an even smaller voice. 'Right after we agreed we'd leave school and go and look for the Horcruxes. When I went back upstairs to get my things it just occurred to me that the more we knew about them, the better it would be... and I was alone in there... so I tried... and it worked. They flew straight in through the open window and I packed them.'

She swallowed and then said imploringly, 'I can't believe Dumbledore would have been angry, it's not as though we're going to use the information to make a Horcrux, is it?'

'Can you hear us complaining?' said Ron. 'Where are these books anyway?'

Hermione rummaged for a moment and then extracted from the pile a large volume, bound in faded black leather. She looked a little nauseated and held it as gingerly as if it were something recently dead.

'This is the one that gives explicit instructions on how to make a Horcrux. Secrets of the Darkest Art. It's a horrible book, really awful, full of evil magic. I wonder when Dumbledore removed it from the library... if he didn't do it until he was headmaster, I bet Voldemort got all the instruction he needed from here.'

'Why did he have to ask Slughorn how to make a Horcrux, then, if he'd already read that?' asked Ron.

'He only approached Slughorn to find out what would happen if you split your soul into seven,' said Harry. 'Dumbledore was sure Riddle already knew how to make a Horcrux by the time he asked Slughorn about them. I think you're right, Hermione, that could easily have been where he got the information.'

'And the more I've read about them,' said Hermione, 'the more horrible they seem, and the less I can believe that he actually made six. It warns in this book how unstable you make the rest of your soul by ripping it, and that's just by making one Horcrux!'

Harry remembered what Dumbledore had said about Voldemort moving beyond "usual evil."

'Isn't there any way of putting yourself back together?' Kitty asked.

'Yes,' said Hermione with a hollow smile, 'but it would be excruciatingly painful.'

'Why? How do you do it?' asked Harry.

'Remorse,' said Hermione. 'You've got to really feel what you've done. There's a footnote. Apparently the pain of it can destroy you. I can't see Voldemort attempting it somehow, can you?'

'No,' said Ron, before Harry could answer. 'So does it say how to destroy Horcruxes in that book?'

'Yes,' said Hermione, now turning the fragile pages as if examining rotting entrails, 'because it warns Dark wizards how strong they have to make the enchantments on them. From all that I've read, what Harry did to Riddle's diary was one of the few really foolproof ways of destroying a Horcrux.'

'What, stabbing it with a basilisk fang?' asked Harry.

'Oh well, lucky we've got such a large supply of basilisk fangs, then,' said Ron. 'I was wondering what we were going to do with them.'

'It doesn't have to be a basilisk fang,' said Hermione patiently. 'It has to be something so destructive that the Horcrux can't repair itself. Basilisk venom only has one antidote, and it's incredibly rare.'

'Phoenix tears,' said Harry, nodding.

'Exactly,' said Hermione. 'Our problem is that there are very few substances as destructive as basilisk venom, and they're all dangerous to carry around with you. That's a problem we're going to have to solve, though, because ripping, smashing, or crushing a Horcrux won't do the trick. You've got to put it beyond magical repair.'

'But even if we wreck the thing it lives in,' said Ron, 'why can't the bit of soul in it just go and live in something else?'

'Because a Horcrux is the complete opposite of a human being.'

Seeing that Harry, Kitty and Ron looked thoroughly confused, Hermione hurried on. 'Look, if I picked up a sword right now, Ron, and ran you through with it, I wouldn't damage your soul at all.'

'Which would be a real comfort to me, I'm sure,' said Ron. Harry and Kitty laughed.

'It should be, actually! But my point is that whatever happens to your body, your soul will survive, untouched,' said Hermione. 'But it's the other way round with a Horcrux. The fragment of soul inside it depends on its container, its enchanted body, for survival. It can't exist without it.'

'That diary sort of died when I stabbed it,' said Harry, remembering ink pouring like blood from the punctured pages, and the screams of the piece of Voldemort's soul as it vanished.

'And once the diary was properly destroyed, the bit of soul trapped in it could no longer exist. Ginny tried to get rid of the diary before you did; flushing it away, but obviously it came back good as new.'

'Hang on,' said Ron, frowning. 'The bit of soul in that diary was possessing Ginny, wasn't it? How does that work, then?'

'While the magical container is still intact, the bit of soul inside it can flit in and out of someone if they get too close to the object. I don't mean holding it for too long, it's nothing to do with touching it,' she added before Ron could speak. 'I mean close emotionally. Ginny poured her heart out into that diary, she made herself incredibly vulnerable. You're in trouble if you get too fond of or dependent on the Horcrux.'

'I wonder how Dumbledore destroyed the ring?' said Harry. 'Why didn't I ask him? I never really...'

His voice trailed away: He was thinking of all the things he should have asked Dumbledore, and of how, since the headmaster had died, it seemed to Harry that he had wasted so many opportunities when Dumbledore had been alive, to find out more... to find out everything...

The silence was shattered as the bedroom door flew open with a wall-shaking crash. Hermione shrieked and dropped Secrets of the Darkest Art; Crookshanks streaked under the bed, hissing indignantly; Ron jumped off the bed, skidded on a discarded Chocolate Frog wrapper, and smacked his head on the opposite wall; Kitty gave a small scream, and fell off the bed and Harry instinctively dived for his wand before realizing that he was looking up at Mrs. Weasley, whose hair was disheveled and whose face was contorted with rage.

'I'm so sorry to break up this cozy little gathering,' she said, her voice trembling. 'I'm sure you all need your rest... but there are wedding presents stacked in my room that need sorting out and I was under the impression that you had agreed to help.'

'Oh yes,' said Hermione, looking terrified as she leapt to her feet, sending books flying in every direction. 'we will... we're sorry...'

With an anguished look at Harry and Ron, Hermione and Kitty hurried out of the room after Mrs. Weasley.

_Please review!_


	7. Chapter 7

Harry's Birthday

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hp.

The next day, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Kitty got up early and surrounded Harry's bed.

'HAPPY BIRTHDAY!' they shouted together.

Harry woke up with a start and rolled from his bed, onto the floor. The others roared with laughter.

'Look, Harry,' said Kitty, 'Your glasses are broken.'

'Reparo!' said Harry, reveling in the removal of his Trace.

When they arrived in the kitchen they found a pile of presents waiting on the table. Bill and Monsieur Delacour were finishing their breakfasts, while Mrs. Weasley stood chatting to them over the frying pan.

'Arthur told me to wish you a happy seventeenth, Harry,' said Mrs. Weasley, beaming at him. 'He had to leave early for work, but he'll be back for dinner. That's our present on top.'

Harry sat down, took the square parcel she had indicated, and unwrapped it. Inside was a watch very like the one Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had given Ron for his seventeenth; it was gold, with stars circling around the race instead of hands.

'It's traditional to give a wizard a watch when he comes of age,' said Mrs. Weasley, watching him anxiously from beside the cooker. 'I'm afraid that one isn't new like Ron's, it was actually my brother Fabian's and he wasn't terribly careful with his possessions, it's a bit dented on the back…'

The rest of her speech was lost; Harry had got up and hugged her. He tried to put a lot of unsaid things into the hug and perhaps she understood them, because she patted his cheek clumsily when he released her, and then waved her wand in a slightly random way, causing half a pack of bacon to flop out of the frying pan onto the floor.

He opened the rest of his presents. Hermione had bought him a new Sneakoscope. Kitty had got him an enormous box of Honeydukes sweets, among which were ones Harry had never eaten other packages contained an enchanted razor from Bill and Fleur ("Ah yes, zis will give you ze smoothest shave you will ever 'ave," Monsieur Delacour assured him, "but you must tell it clearly what you want...ozzerwise you might find you 'ave a leetle less hair zan you would like..."), chocolates from the Delacours, and an enormous box of the latest Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes merchandise from Fred and George.

'Harry, will you come here a moment?' said Ginny peering into the kitchen.

Harry got up and left. Ron, Hermione and Kitty ate their finished eating their breakfast and went back upstairs. Ron walked up to Ginny's room and made to open it.

'Oh no, Ron, don't,' said Kitty pulling his arm.

'Why?' said Ron.

'Just…just…don't.'

But Ron had already pushed open the door. Harry and Ginny were inside glued at the lips. They jumped apart, when they saw Ron, Kitty and Hermione standing in the doorway.

'Oh!' said Ron pointedly, 'Sorry.'

'Ron!' said Hermione. There was a strained silence, then Ginny had said in a flat little voice, 'Well, happy birthday anyway, Harry.'

Ron's ears were scarlet; Hermione and Kitty looked nervous. Harry wanted to slam the door in their faces, but it felt as though a cold draft had entered the room when the door opened, and his shining moment had popped like a soap bubble. All the reasons for ending his relationship with Ginny, for staying well away from her, seemed to have slunk inside the room with Ron, and all happy forgetfulness was gone.

He looked at Ginny, wanting to say something, though he hardly knew what, but she had turned her back on him. He thought that she might have succumbed, for once, to tears. He could not do anything to comfort her in front of Ron.

'I'll see you later,' he said, and followed the other three out of the bedroom.

Ron marched downstairs, though the still-crowded kitchen and into the yard, and Harry kept pace with him all the way, Hermione and Kitty trotting along behind them looking scared.

Once he reached the seclusion of the freshly mown lawn, Ron rounded on Harry.

'You ditched her. What are you doing now, messing her around?'

'I'm not messing her around,' said Harry, as Hermione and Kitty caught up with them.

'Ron…' began Hermione.

But Ron held up a hand to silence her.

'She was really cut up when you ended it…'

'So was I. You know why I stopped it, and it wasn't because I wanted to.'

'Yeah, but you go snogging her now and she's just going to get her hopes up again…'

'She's not an idiot, she knows it can't happen, she's not expecting us to…to end up married, or…'

As he said it, a vivid picture formed in Harry's mind of Ginny in a white dress, marrying a tall, faceless, and unpleasant stranger. In one spiraling moment it seemed to hit him: Her future was free and unencumbered, whereas his...he could see nothing but Voldemort ahead.

'If you keep groping her every chance you get…'

'I was not groping her!' yelling Harry hotly.

Ron seemed to understand that he had crossed a line. 'Mate, I'm sorry, I guess I kind of overreacted. I mean what would you do if you caught Malfoy snogging Kitty, after he'd dumped her?'

'Oi! Leave me out of it,' said Kitty, turning red.

Ron did not appear to have heard her. Harry thought about what Ron had said and replied abruptly, 'I'm sorry Ron for yelling. I would have a fit too if I saw Kitty snogging Malfoy. I mean, she's too young for kissing.'

'Leave me out of it!' repeated Kitty, 'And just for your information, I am not too young for kissing. How old were you when you made your first kiss anyway?'

'I was fifteen…' began Harry.

'Beat ya,' said Kitty without thinking.

'What is that supposed to mean?' said Harry frowning.

Kitty turned on her heel and marched back towards the house. Harry caught up with her, and grabbed her arm.

'What's that supposed to mean?' he repeated.

'I—its none of your business,' said Kitty automatically.

'No,' insisted Harry making Kitty bypass red and turn maroon, 'Tell me, did that asshole kiss you? Wait till I see him again…'

'Don't call him an asshole! And it's none of your business,' said Kitty in an unusually high voice.

Ron and Hermione exchanged awkward looks.

'Kat, what do you see in him? He's a total…'

'We've had this discussion before. And I thought you had just come to know about him being a spy for us,' said Kitty angrily.

'That doesn't change anything,' said Harry, 'Doesn't stop him being a git. I'm never going to accept him as your boyfriend.'

'No one's asking you to! You can go and just fuck yourself for all I care!' said Kitty, close to tears now. She ran back into the house.

'Great job, Harry,' said Hermione crossly and ran after her her. Harry and Ron followed her back to the house. Kitty was sitting and crying in Ginny's room. Ginny put an arm around her.

'I know exactly how you feel,' she said comfortingly, 'I have an idiot brother too.'

'So, you accept that Harry's an idiot,' Kitty said, with a watery smile.

'Oh, worse than Ron!' said Ginny rolling her eyes.

'I understand the position you're in,' sighed Ginny, 'I have a boyfriend too whom I hardly know when I'm going to see again.'

Kitty dried her eyes and looked at Ginny. She felt ashamed of herself suddenly. She didn't know what to say. Just then, the bedroom door burst open. Harry entered, closely followed by Ron.

'If you've come here to…' said Kitty whipping out her wand.

'No!' said Harry, 'I haven't. I've come to say sorry Kat. It won't happen again, I promise.'

Kitty glared at Harry for a minute and then hugged him, 'its okay, Harry.'

Ginny looked first at Harry, and then at Ron. Ron stiffened and left the room with Hermione. Kitty smiled and said,'You too spend some time alone together. After all, it's our last day here. I'll make sure those two don't barge in here.'

She walked out of the door.

_Please review!_


	8. Chapter 8

Dumbledore's Will

**Disclaimer:** I'm not Rowling.

In the evening, Mrs. Weasley had just planted a snitch shaped cake on the table, when a streak of light came flying across the yard and onto the table, where it resolved itself into a bright silver weasel, which stood on its hind legs and spoke with Mr. Weasley's voice.

'Minister of Magic coming with me.'

The Patronus dissolved into thin air, leaving Fleur's family peering in astonishment at the place where it had vanished.

'We shouldn't be here,' said Remus at once. 'Harry, Kitty, I'm sorry, I'll explain some other time.'

He seized Tonks's wrist and pulled her away; they reached the fence, climbed over it, and vanished from sight. Mrs. Weasley looked bewildered.

'The Minister…but why? I don't understand.'

But there was no time to discuss the matter; a second later, Mr. Weasley had appeared out of thin air at the gate, accompanied by Rufus Scrimgeour, instantly recognizable by his mane of grizzled hair.

The two newcomers marched across the yard toward the garden and the lantern-lit table, where everybody sat in silence, watching them draw closer. As Scrimgeour came within range of the lantern light. Harry saw that he looked much older than the last time that had met, scraggy and grim.

'Sorry to intrude,' said Scrimgeour, as he limped to a halt before the table. 'Especially as I can see that I am gate-crashing a party.'

His eyes lingered for a moment on the giant Snitch cake.

'Many happy returns.'

'Thanks,' said Harry.

'I require a private word with you,' Scrimgeour went on. 'Also with Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger.'

'Us?' said Ron, sounding surprised. 'Why us?'

'I shall tell you that when we are somewhere more private,' said Scrimgeour. 'Is there such a place?' he demanded of Mr. Weasley.

'Yes, of course,' said Mr. Weasley, who looked nervous. 'The, er, sitting room, why don't you use that?'

'You can lead the way,' Scrimgeour said to Ron. 'There will be no need for you to accompany us, Arthur.'

Harry saw Mr. Weasley exchange a worried look with Mrs. Weasley as he, Kitty, Ron, and Hermione stood up. As they led the way back to the house in silence, Kitty knew that the other two were thinking the same as he was; Scrimgeour must, somehow, had learned that the four of them were planning to drop out of Hogwarts.

Scrimgeour did not speak as they all passed through the messed kitchen and into the Burrow's sitting room. Scrimgeour sat himself in the sagging armchair that Mr. Weasley normally occupied, leaving Harry, Kitty, Ron, and Hermione to squeeze side by side onto the sofa. Once they had done so, Scrimgeour looked at Kitty and spoke.

'She…'

'She's staying,' said Harry firmly, 'anything you want to say can be said in front of her.'

'Very well, I have some questions for the three of you, and I think it will be best if we do it individually. If you two,' he pointed at Harry and Hermione, 'can wait upstairs, I will start with Ronald.'

'We're not going anywhere,' said Harry, while Hermione nodded vigorously. 'You can speak to us together, or not at all.'

Scrimgeour gave Harry a cold, appraising look. Harry had the impression that the Minister was wondering whether it was worthwhile opening hostilities this early.

'Very well then, together,' he said, shrugging. He cleared his throat. 'I am here, as I'm sure you know, because of Albus Dumbledore's will.'

Harry, Kitty, Ron, and Hermione looked at one another.

'A surprise, apparently! You were not aware then that Dumbledore had left you anything?'

'A-all of us?' said Ron, 'Me and Hermione too?'

'The three of you.'

But Harry interrupted.

'Dumbledore died over a month ago. Why has it taken this long to give us what he left us?'

'Isn't it obvious?' said Hermione, before Scrimgeour could answer. 'They wanted to examine whatever he's left us. You had no right to do that!'she said, and her voice trembled slightly.

'I had every right,' said Scrimgeour dismissively. 'The Decree for Justifiable Confiscation gives the Ministry the power the confiscate the contents of a will.'

'That law was created to stop wizards passing on Dark artifacts,' said Kitty, 'and the Ministry is supposed to have powerful evidence that the deceased's possessions are illegal before seizing them! Are you telling me that you thought Dumbledore was trying to pass them something cursed?'

'Are you planning to follow a career in Magical Law, Miss Potter?' asked Scrimgeour.

'No, I'm not,' retorted Hermione. 'I'm hoping to do some good in the world!'

Ron laughed. Scrimgeour's eyes flickered toward him and away again as Harry spoke.

'So why have you decided to let us have our things now? Can't think of a pretext to keep them?'

'No, it'll be because thirty-one days are up,' said Kitty at once. 'They can't keep the objects longer than that unless they can prove they're dangerous. Right?'

'Would you say you were close to Dumbledore, Ronald?' asked Scrimgeour, ignoring Hermione. Ron looked startled.

'Me? Not, not really... It was always Harry who...'

Kitty gave Ron's ankle a hard kick. Ron looked around at her to see her giving him a stop-talking-now! sort of look, but the damage was done; Scrimgeour looked as though he had heard exactly what he had expected, and wanted, to hear. He swooped like a bird of prey upon Ron's answer.

'If you were not very close to Dumbledore, how do you account for the fact that he remembered you in his will? He made exceptionally few personal bequests. The vast majority of his possessions , his private library, his magical instruments, and other personal effects, were left to Hogwarts. Why do you think you were singled out?'

'I...dunno,' said Ron. 'I...when I say we weren't close...I mean, I think he liked me...'

'You're being modest, Ron,' said Hermione. 'Dumbledore was very fond of you.'

This was stretching the truth to breaking point; as far as Kitty knew, Ron and Dumbledore had never been alone together, and direct contact between them had been negligible. However, Scrimgeour did not seem to be listening. He put his hand inside his cloak and drew out a drawstring pouch much larger than the one Hagrid had given Harry. From it, he removed a scroll of parchment which he unrolled and read aloud.

'The Last Will and Testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore... Yes, here we are... To Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it.'

Scrimgeour took from the bag an object that Harry had seen before: It looked something like a silver cigarette lighter, but it had, he knew, the power to suck all light from a place, and restore it, with a simple click. Scrimgeour leaned forward and passed the Deluminator to Ron, who took it and turned it over in the fingers looking stunned.

'That is a valuable object,' said Scrimgeour, watching Ron. 'It may even be unique. Certainly it is of Dumbledore's own design. Why would he have left you and item so rare?'

Ron shook his head, looking bewildered.

'Dumbledore must have taught thousands of students,' Scrimgeour persevered. 'Yet the only ones he remembered in his will are you three. Why is that? To what use did he think you would put to the Deluminator, Mr. Weasley?'

'Put out lights, I s'pose,' mumbled Ron. 'What else could I do with it?'

Evidently Scrimgeour had no suggestions. After squinting at Ron for a moment or tow, he turned back to Dumbledore's will.

'To Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive.'

Scrimgeour now pulled out of the bag a small book that looked as ancient as the copy of Secrets of the Darkest Art upstairs. Its binding was stained and peeling in places. Hermione took it from Scrimgeour without a word. She held the book in her lap and gazed at it. Harry saw that the title was in runes; he had never learned to read them. As he looked, a tear splashed onto the embossed symbols.

'Why do you think Dumbledore left you that book, Miss Granger?' asked Scrimgeour.

'He... he knew I liked books,' said Hermione in a thick voice, mopping her eyes with her sleeve.

'But why that particular book?'

'I don't know. He must have thought I'd enjoy it.'

'Did you ever discuss codes, or any means of passing secret messages, with Dumbledore?'

'No, I didn't,' said Hermione, still wiping her eyes on her sleeve. 'And if the Ministry hasn't found any hidden codes in this book in thirty-one days, I doubt that I will.'

She suppressed a sob. They were wedged together so tightly that Ron had difficulty extracting his arm to put it around Hermione's shoulders. Scrimgeour turned back to the will.

'To Harry James Potter,' he read, and Harry's insides contracted with a sudden excitement, 'I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill.'

As Scrimgeour pulled out the tiny, walnut-sized golden ball, its silver wings fluttered rather feebly, and Harry could not help feeling a definite sense of anticlimax.

'Why did Dumbledore leave you this Snitch?' asked Scrimgeour.

'No idea,' said Harry. 'For the reasons you just read out, I suppose... to remind me what you can get if you... persevere and whatever it was.'

'You think this a mere symbolic keepsake, then?'

'I suppose so,' said Harry. 'What else could it be?'

'I'm asking the questions,' said Scrimgeour, shifting his chair a little closer to the sofa. Dusk was really falling outside now; the marquee beyond the windows towered ghostly white over the hedge.

'I notice that your birthday cake is in the shape of a Snitch,' Scrimgeour said to Harry. 'Why is that?'

Hermione laughed derisively.

'Oh, it can't be a reference to the fact Harry's a great Seeker, that's way too obvious,' she said. 'There must be a secret message from Dumbledore hidden in the icing!'

'I don't think there's anything hidden in the icing,' said Scrimgeour, 'but a Snitch would be a very good hiding place for a small object. You know why, I'm sure?'

Harry shrugged, Hermione, however, answered: Harry thought that answering questions correctly was such a deeply ingrained habit she could not suppress the urge.

'Because Snitches have flesh memories,' she said.

'What?' said Harry and Ron together; both considered Hermione's Quidditch knowledge negligible.

'Correct,' said Scrimgeour. 'A Snitch is not touched by bare skin before it is released, not even by the maker, who wears gloves. It carries an enchantment by which it can identify the first human to lay hands upon it, in case of a disputed capture. This Snitch,' he held up the tiny golden ball, 'will remember your touch, Potter. It occurs to me that Dumbledore, who had prodigious magical skill, whatever his other faults, might have enchanted this Snitch so that it will open only for you.'

Harry's heart was beating rather fast. He was sure that Scrimgeour was right. How could he avoid taking the Snitch with his bare hand in front of the Minister?

'You don't say anything,' said Scrimgeour. 'Perhaps you already know what the Snitch contains?'

'No,' said Harry, still wondering how he could appear to touch the Snitch without really doing so. If only he knew Legilimency, really knew it, and could read Hermione's mind; he could practically hear her brain whizzing beside him.

'Take it,' said Scrimgeour quietly.

Harry met the Minister's yellow eyes and knew he had no option but to obey. He held out his hand, and Scrimgeour leaned forward again and place the Snitch, slowly and deliberately, into Harry's palm.

Nothing happened. As Harry's fingers closed around the Snitch, its tired wings fluttered and were still. Scrimgeour, Ron, Kitty and Hermione continued to gaze avidly at the now partially concealed ball, as if still hoping it might transform in some way.

'That was dramatic,' said Harry coolly. Kitty, Ron and Hermione laughed.

'That's all, then, is it?' asked Hermione, making to raise herself off the sofa.

'Not quite,' said Scrimgeour, who looked bad tempered now. 'Dumbledore left you a second bequest, Potter.'

'What is it?' asked Harry, excitement rekindling.

Scrimgeour did not bother to read from the will this time.

'The sword of Godric Gryffindor,' he said. Harry looked around for a sign of the ruby-encrusted hilt, but Scrimgeour did not pull the sword from the leather pouch, which in any case looked much too small to contain it.

'So where is it?' Kitty asked suspiciously.

'Unfortunately,' said Scrimgeour, 'that sword was not Dumbledore's to give away. The sword of Godric Gryffindor is an important historical artifact, and as such, belongs…'

'It belongs to Harry!' said Hermione hotly. 'It chose him, he was the one who found it, it came to him out of the Sorting Hat…'

'According to reliable historical sources, the sword may present itself to any worthy Gryffindor,' said Scrimgeour. 'That does not make it the exclusive property of Mr. Potter, whatever Dumbledore may have decided." Scrimgeour scratched his badly shaven cheek, scrutinizing Harry. "Why do you think…'

'Dumbledore wanted to give me the sword?' said Harry, struggling to keep his temper. 'Maybe he thought it would look nice on my wall.'

'This is not a joke, Potter!' growled Scrimgeour. 'Was it because Dumbledore believed that only the sword of Godric Gryffindor could defeat the Heir of Slytherin? Did he wish to give you that sword, Potter, because he believed, as do many, that you are the one destined to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?'

'Interesting theory,' said Harry. 'Has anyone ever tried sticking a sword in Voldemort? Maybe the Ministry should put some people onto that, instead of wasting their time stripping down Deluminators or covering up breakouts from Azkaban. So this is what you've been doing, Minister, shut up in your office, trying to break open a Snitch? People are dying, I was nearly one of them. Voldemort chased me across three countries, he killed Mad-Eye Moody, but there's no word about any of that from the Ministry, has there? And you still expect us to cooperate with you!'

'You go too far!' shouted Scrimgeour, standing up: Harry jumped to his feet too. Scrimgeour limped toward Harry and jabbed him hard in the chest with the point of his wand; It singed a hole in Harry's T-shirt like a lit cigarette.

'Oi!' said Kitty taking out her wand.

Ron, jumped up and took out his wand too, but Harry said, 'No! D'you want to give him an excuse to arrest us?'

'Remembered you're not at school, have you?' said Scrimgeour breathing hard into Harry's face. 'Remembered that I am not Dumbledore, who forgave your insolence and insubordination? You may wear that scar like a crown, Potter, but it is not up to a seventeen-year-old boy to tell me how to do my job! It's time you learned some respect!'

'It's time you earned it,' said Harry.

The floor trembled; there was a sound of running footsteps, then the door to the sitting room burst open and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley ran in.

'We…we thought we heard…' began Mr. Weasley, looking thoroughly alarmed at the sight of Harry and the Minister virtually nose to nose.

'Raised voices,' panted Mrs. Weasley.

Scrimgeour took a couple of steps back from Harry, glancing at the hole he had made in Harry's T-shirt. He seemed to regret his loss of temper.

'It…it was nothing,' he growled. 'I ... regret your attitude,' he said, looking Harry full in the face once more. 'You seem to think that the Ministry does not desire what you…what Dumbledore…desired. We ought to work together.'

'I don't like your methods, Minister,' said Harry. 'Remember?'

For the second time, he raised his right fist and displayed to Scrimgeour the scar that still showed white on the back of it, spelling I must not tell lies . Scrimgeour's expression hardened. He turned away without another word and limped from the room. Mrs. Weasley hurried after him; Harry heard her stop at the back door. After a minute or so she called, 'He's gone!'

'What did he want?' Mr. Weasley asked, looking around at Harry, Ron, and Hermione as Mrs. Weasley came hurrying back to them.

'To give us what Dumbledore left us,' said Harry. 'They've only just released the content of his will.'


	9. Chapter 9

The Wedding

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

Three o'clock on the following afternoon found Harry, Kitty, Ron, Fred and George standing outside the great white marquee in the orchard, awaiting the arrival of the wedding guests. Harry had taken a large dose of Polyjuice Potion and was now the double of a redheaded Muggle boy from the local village, Ottery St. Catchpole, from whom Fred had stolen hairs using a Summoning Charm. The plan was to introduce Harry as "Cousin Barny" and trust to the great number of Weasley relatives to camouflage him. As for Kitty, Mrs. Weasley had done something to her hair, that had made it become several shades lighter, and she now looked a distant cousin of the Weasleys. Her eyes and nose had also been transformed by Mrs. Weasley, and a considerable number of freckles had been added to her face.

Brightly colored figures were appearing, one by one out of nowhere at the distant boundary of the yard. Within minutes a procession had formed, which began to snake its way up through the garden toward the marquee. Exotic flowers and bewitched birds fluttered on the witches' hats, while precious gems glittered from many of the wizards' cravats; a hum of excited chatter grew louder and louder, drowning the sound of the bees as the crowd approached the tent.

'Excellent, I think I see a few veela cousins,' said George, craning his neck for a better look. 'They'll need help understanding our English customs; I'll look after them...'

'Not so fast, Your Holeyness,' said Fred, and darting past the gaggle of middle-aged witches heading for the procession, he said, 'Here… permetiez moi to assister vous,' to a pair of pretty French girls, who giggled and allowed him to escort them inside. George was left to deal with the middle-aged witches and Ron took charge of Mr. Weasley's old Ministry-colleague Perkins, while a rather deaf old couple fell to Harry's lot.

'Wotcher Kitty,' said a familiar voice behind her. She turned around and saw Tonks and Remus. Tonks had turned blonde for the occasion.

Remus gave her a swift smile, but as he turned away, Kitty saw Remus's face fall again into lines of misery. She did not understand it, but there was no time to dwell on the matte, for Luna had walked up to them, with a slightly eccentric looking wizard. Slightly cross-eyed, with shoulder-length white hair the texture of candyfloss, he wore a cap whose tassel dangled in front of his nose and robes of an eye-watering shade of egg-yolk yellow. An odd symbol, rather like a triangular eye, glistened from a golden chain around his neck.

'Xenophilius Lovegood,' he said, extending a hand to Kitty, 'Luna and I live just over the hill, so kind of the good Weasleys to invite us.

'I knew it was you straightaway,' said Luna, 'For you were standing with Remus and Tonks. Oh, and I almost forgot, Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Lupin.'

Remus and Tonks smiled and thanked her.

Like her father, Luna was wearing bright yellow robes, which she had accessorized with a large sunflower in her hair. Once you get over the brightness of it all, the general effect was quite pleasant. At least there were no radishes dangling from her ears.

Luna said, 'Kitty, look, there's Vandyll and Dennis!'

Kitty looked where she was pointing and saw her friends.

'Um, excuse me Remus,' she said.

As she drifted off after Luna, Ron reappeared with an elderly witch clutching his arm. Her beaky nose, red-rimmed eyes, and leathery pink hat gave her the look of a bad-tempered flamingo.

'...and your hair's much too long, Ronald, for a moment I thought you were Ginevra. Merlin's beard, what is Xenophilius Lovegood wearing? He looks like an omelet. And who are you?' she barked at Kitty.

'Oh yeah, Auntie Muriel, this is our cousin Melanie.'

'Another Weasley? You breed like gnomes. Isn't Harry Potter here? I was hoping to meet him. I thought he was a friend of yours, Ronald, or have you merely been boasting?'

'No, he couldn't come…'

'Hmm. Made an excuse, did he? Not as gormless as he looks in press photographs, then. I've just been instructing the bride on how best to wear my tiara,' she shouted at Kitty. 'Goblin-made, you know, and been in my family for centuries. She's a good-looking girl, but still she's French. Well, well, find me a good seat, Ronald, I am a hundred and seven and I ought not to be on my feet too long.'

Ron gave Kitty a meaningful look as he passed and did not reappear for some time.

'Hey Vandyll! Hey Dennis!' said Kitty hugging them both.

'Hi! Blimey, you look just like a Weasley!' said Dennis.

'Okay, guys, there's something I have to talk to you about. Follow me,' said Kitty, leading them to a corner of the tent.

'What is it?' said Vandyll.

'I'm not returning to Hogwarts,' said Kitty.

'What? Why?' said Vandyll.

'Well,' said Kitty choosing her words carefully, 'Harry, Ron and Hermione are not returning either. Dumbledore left them stuff to do. Remus reckons that I should stay with Harry so that Voldemort does not capture me to bait Harry.'

The other three stared at her. Dennis opened his mouth to say something, but Kitty beat him to it.

'Don't ask me, where I'm going and for what, because I can't tell you. Dumbledore's orders,' said Kitty.

'But, this is ridiculous,' said Vandyll.

'I know, but I have no choice,' said Kitty sadly. 'But hey, we can still talk using that two way mirror. Just make sure you don't let anyone else know that you're talking to me. Oh and, can—can you do me a huge favor?'

'What?' said Vandyll.

'I—You—I mean, could you sometimes…sometimes lend your mirror to Draco, so I can talk to him too?' said Kitty, not meeting any of their eyes.

'Sure,' said Vandyll, a little stiffly.

'Thanks, you're the best,' said Kitty. 'Come on let's go and see what's happening.'

They went back and joined Harry, Ron and Hermione who were talking about Aunt Muriel. They were all laughing so much that none of them noticed the latecomer, a dark-haired young man with a large, curved nose and thick black eyebrows, until he held out his invitation to Ron and said, with his eyes on Hermione, 'You look vunderful.'

'Viktor!' she shrieked, and dropped her small beaded bag, which made a loud thump quite disproportionate to its size. As she scrambled, blushing, to pick it up, she said 'I didn't know you were…goodness, it's lovely to see you. How are you?'

Ron's ears had turned bright red again. After glancing at Krum's invitation as if he did not believe a word of it, he said, much too loudly, 'How come you're here?'

'Fleur invited me,' said Krum, eyebrows raised.

Harry and Kitty, who had no grudge against Krum, shook hands; then feeling that it would be prudent to remove Krum from Ron's vicinity, offered to show him his seat.

'Your friend is not pleased to see me,' said Krum, as they entered the now packed marquee. 'Or is he a relative?' he added with a glance at Harry's red curly hair.

'Cousin.' Harry muttered, but Krum was not really listening. His appearance was causing a stir, particularly amongst the veela cousins: He was, after all, a famous Quidditch player. While people were still craning their necks to get a good look at him, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George came hurrying down the aisle.

'Time to sit down,' Fred told Kitty, 'or we're going to get run over by the bride.'

Harry, Kitty, Luna, Vandyll, Dennis, Ron and Hermione took their seats in the second row behind Fred and George. Hermione looked rather pink and Ron's ears were still scarlet. After a few moments he muttered to Kitty, 'Did you see he's grown a stupid little beard?'

'Hmm,' said Kitty, wondering how to change the topic.

A sense of jittery anticipation had filled the warm tent, the general murmuring broken by occasional spurts of excited laughter. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley strolled up the aisle, smiling and waving at relatives; Mrs. Weasley was wearing a brand-new set of amethyst colored robes with a matching hat.

A moment later Bill and Charlie stood up at the front of the marquee, both wearing dress robes, with larger white roses in their buttonholes; Fred wolf-whistled and there was an outbreak of giggling from the veela cousins. Then the crowd fell silent as music swelled from what seemed to be the golden balloons.

'Ooooh!' said Hermione, swiveling around in her seat to look at the entrance.

A great collective sigh issued from the assembled witches and wizards as Monsieur Delacour and Fleur came walking up the aisle, Fleur gliding, Monsieur Delacour bouncing and beaming. Fleur was wearing a very simple white dress and seemed to be emitting a strong, silvery glow. While her radiance usually dimmed everyone else by comparison, today it beautified everybody it fell upon. Ginny and Gabrielle, both wearing golden dresses, looked even prettier than usual and once Fleur had reached for him, Bill did not look as though he had ever met Fenrir Greyback.

'Ladies and gentlemen,' said a slightly singsong voice, and with a slight shock, Kitty saw the same small, tufty-hired wizard who had presided at Dumbledore's funeral, now standing in front of Bill and Fleur. 'We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls...'

'Yes, my tiara set off the whole thing nicely,' said Auntie Muriel in a rather carrying whisper. 'But I must say, Ginevra's dress is far too low cut.'

Ginny glanced around, grinning, winked at Harry, and then quickly faced the front again. Harry's mind wandered a long way from the marquee, back to the afternoons spent alone with Ginny in lonely parts of the school grounds. They seemed so long ago; they had always seemed too good to be true, as though he had been stealing shining hours from a normal person's life, a person without a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead...

'Do you, William Arthur, take Fleur Isabelle...?'

In the front row, Mrs. Weasley and Madame Delacour were both sobbing quietly into scraps of lace. Trumpetlike sounds from the back of the marquee told everyone that Hagrid had taken out one of his own tablecloth-sized handkerchiefs. Hermione turned around and beamed at Harry; her eyes too were full of tears.

'...then I declare you bonded for life.'

The tufty-haired wizard waved his hand high over the heads of Bill and Fleur and a shower of silver stars fell upon them, spiraling around their now entwined figures. As Fred and George led a round of applause, the golden balloons overhead burst. Birds of paradise and tiny golden bells flew and floated out of them, adding their songs and chimes to the din.

'Ladies and gentlemen!' called the tufty-haired wizard. 'If you would please stand up!'

'Smooth,' said Ron approvingly as the waiters popped up on all sides, some hearing silver trays of pumpkin juice, butterbeer, and firewhisky, others tottering piles of tarts and sandwiches.

'We should go and congratulate them!' said Hermione, standing on tiptoe to see the place where Bill and Fleur had vanished amid a crowd of well-wishers.

'We'll have time later,' shrugged Ron, snatching three butterbeers from a passing tray and handing one to Harry. 'Hermione, cop hold, let's grab a table... Not there! Nowhere near Muriel!'

Ron led the way across the empty dance floor, glancing left and right as he went; Kitty felt sure that he was keeping an eye out for Krum. The band had begun to play, Bill and Fleur took to the dance floor first, to great applause; after a while, and Mr. Weasley led Madame Delacour onto the floor, followed by Mr. Weasley and Fleur's father.

'I like this song,' said Luna, swaying in time to the waltzlike tune, and a few seconds later she stood up and glided onto the dance floor, where she revolved on the spot, quite alone, eyes closed and waving her arms.

Viktor Krum had dropped into Luna's vacant seat. Hermione looked pleasurably flustered but this time Krum had not come to compliment her. With a scowl on his face he said, 'Who is that man in the yellow?'

'That's Xenophilius Lovegood, he's the father of a friend of ours,' said Ron. His pugnacious tone indicated that they were not about to laugh at Xenophilius, despite the clear provocation. 'Come and dance,' he added abruptly to Hermione.

She looked taken aback, but pleased too, and got up. They vanished together into the growing throng on the dance floor. Harry left too, to dance with Ginny.

'Ah, they are together now?' asked Krum, momentarily distracted.

'Er… sort of,' said Kitty.

'Who are you?' Krum asked.

'Melanie Weasley.'

They shook hands.

'You, Melanie, you know this man Lovegood well?'

'No, I only met him today. Why?'

Krum glowered over the top of his drink, watching Xenophilius, who was chatting to several warlocks on the other side of the dance floor.

'Because,' said Krum, 'If he vus not a guest of Fleur's I vould dud him, here and now, for veering that filthy sign upon his chest.'

'Sign?' said Kitty, looking over at Xenophilius too. The strange triangular eye was gleaming on his chest. 'Why? What's wrong with it?'

'Grindelvald. That is Grindelvald's sign.'

'Grindelwald... the Dark wizard Dumbledore defeated?'

'Exactly.'

Krum's jaw muscles worked as if he were chewing, then he said, 'Grindelvald killed many people, my grandfather, for instance. Of course, he vos never powerful in this country, they said he feared Dumbledore and rightly, seeing how he vos finished. But this,' he pointed a finger at Xenophilius, 'this is his symbol, I recognized it at vunce: Grindelvald carved it into a vall at Durmstrang ver he vos a pupil there. Some idiots copied it onto their books and clothes thinking to make themselves impressive until those of us who had lost family members to Grindelvald taught them better.'

Krum cracked his knuckles menacingly and glowered at Xenophilius. Kitty felt perplexed. It seemed incredibly unlikely that Luna's father was a supporter of the Dark Arts, and nobody else in the tent seemed to have recognized the triangular, finlike shape.

'Are you…er… quite sure it's Grindelwald's -?'

'I am not mistaken,' said Krum coldly. 'I walked past that sign for several years, I know it vell.'

'Well, there's a chance,' said Kitty, 'that Xenophilius doesn't actually know what the symbol means, the Lovegoods are quite... unusual. He could have easily picked it up somewhere and think it's a cross section of the head of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack or something.'

'The cross section of a vot?'

'Well, I don't know what they are, but apparently he and his daughter go on holiday looking for them...'

Kitty felt she was doing a bad job explaining Luna and her father.

'That's her,' she said, pointing at Luna, who was still dancing alone, waving her arms around her head like someone attempting to beat off midges.

'Vy is she doing that?' asked Krum.

'Probably trying to get rid of a Wrackspurt,' said Kitty, who recognized the symptoms.

Krum did not seem to know whether or not Kitty was making fun of him. He drew his hand from inside his robe and tapped it menacingly on his thighs; sparks flew out of the end.

Kitty did not answer. She pretended to watch the dancers, like Krum.

'This girl is very nice-looking,' Krum said, recalling Kitty to her surroundings. Krum was pointing at Ginny, who had just joined Luna. 'She is also a relative of yours?'

'Yeah,' said Kitty, 'and she's seeing someone. Jealous type. Big bloke. You wouldn't want to cross him.'

'And what about Kitty Potter? Is she not here?' said Krum.

'Aren't you a bit old for her?' said Kitty, slightly irritated.

'I'm just tventy,' said Krum.

'Yeah, and she's fourteen, besides she has a boyfriend,' said Kitty getting up to leave.

'Vot,' he said, draining his goblet, 'is the point of being an international Quidditch player if all the good-looking girls are taken?'

'I—I have to go, I think Har—Barny is calling me,' said Kitty, rushing towards Harry, Ron and Hermione.

'So what was Viktor saying?' said Hermione casually. Ron scowled.

'He was hitting on me,' said Kitty angrily. Harry clenched his fists in anger.

'Really?' said Hermione, 'I thought Viktor fancied me.'

'Yeah, I thought so too,' said Kitty, 'but that was before he started hitting on Ginny and me.'

Harry and Ron jumped to their feet, and pulled out their wands.

'Oh, don't be silly,' said Hermione briskly, ushering them to sit down. Harry and Ron looked at Krum, and sat down fretfully.

At that moment, something large and silver came falling through the canopy over the dance floor. Graceful and gleaming, the lynx landed lightly in the middle of the astonished dancers. Heads turned, as those nearest it froze absurdly in mid-dance. Then the Patronus's mouth opened wide and it spoke in the loud, deep, slow voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

'The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.'

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	10. Chapter 10

A Place to Hide

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

Everything seemed fuzzy, slow. Harry, Ron, Kitty and Hermione jumped to their feet and drew their wands. Many people were only just realizing that something strange had happened; heads were still turning toward the silver cat as it vanished. Silence spread outward in cold ripples from the place where the Patronus had landed. Then somebody screamed.

Harry, Kitty and Hermione threw themselves into the panicking crowd. Guests were sprinting in all directions; many were Disapparating; the protective enchantments around the Burrow had broken.

As they pushed their way across the dance floor, Kitty saw cloaked and masked figures appearing in the crowd; then she saw Remus and Tonks, their wands raised, and heard both of them shout, 'Protego!', a cry that was echoed on all sides…

'Ron! Ron!' Hermione called, half sobbing as they were buffered by terrified guests: Harry seized Kitty's hand to make sure they weren't separated as a streak of light whizzed over their heads, whether a protective charm or something more sinister Kitty did not know.

And then Ron was there. He caught hold of Hermione's free arm, and Kitty felt her turn on the spot; sight and sound were extinguished as darkness pressed in upon her; all she could feel was Hermione's hand as she was squeezed through space and time, away from the Burrow, away from the descending Death Eaters, away, perhaps, from Voldemort himself...

'Where are we?' said Ron's voice.

Kitty opened her eyes. For a moment she thought they had not left the wedding after all; they still seemed to be surrounded by people.

'Tottenham Court Road,' panted Hermione. 'Walk, just walk, we need to find somewhere for you both to change.'

They half walked, half ran up the wide dark street thronged with late-night revelers and lined with closed shops, stars twinkling above them. A double-decker bus rumbled by and a group of merry pub-goers ogled them as they passed; Harry and Ron were still wearing dress robes.

'Hermione, we haven't got anything to change into,' Ron told her, as a young woman burst into raucous giggles at the sight of him.

'Why didn't I make sure I had the Invisibility Cloak with me?' said Harry, inwardly cursing his own stupidity. 'All last year I kept it on me and…'

'It's okay, we've got the Cloak, we've got clothes for all of us,' said Kitty, 'Just try and act naturally until…this will do.'

Hermione had led them down a side street, then into the shelter of a shadowy alleyway.

'When you say you've got the Cloak, and clothes...' said Harry, frowning at Kitty, who was carrying nothing.

'Yes, they're here,' said Hermione, and to Harry and Ron's utter astonishment, she pulled out a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt, some maroon socks, and finally the silvery Invisibility Cloak out of her small beaded bag.

'How the ruddy hell?'

'Undetectable Extension Charm,' said Hermione. 'Tricky, but I think Kitty's done it okay; anyway, we managed to fit everything we need in here.' She gave the fragile-looking bag a little shake and it echoed like a cargo hold as a number of heavy objects rolled around inside it. 'Oh, damn, that'll be the books,' she said, peering into it, 'and I had them all stacked by subject... Oh well... Harry, you'd better take the Invisibility Cloak. Ron, hurry up and change...'

'When did you do all this?' Harry asked as Ron stripped off his robes, while Kitty put her hands on her eyes.

'I told you at the Burrow, Kitty and I've had the essentials packed for days, you know, in case we needed to make a quick getaway. I packed your rucksack this morning, Harry, after you changed, and put it in here... I just had a feeling...'

'You're amazing, you are,' said Ron, handing her his bundled-up robes. Hermione waved her wand at Kitty's face, who transformed back into herself.

'Thank you,' said Hermione, managing a small smile as she pushed the robes into the bag. 'Please, Harry, get that Cloak on!'

Harry threw his Invisibility Cloak over Kitty and himself and pulled it up over his head, vanishing from sight. He was only just beginning to appreciate what had happened.

'The others… everybody at the wedding…'

'We can't worry about that now,' whispered Hermione. 'It's you they're after, Harry, and we'll just put everyone in even more danger by going back.'

'She's right,' said Ron, who seemed to know that Harry was about to argue, even if he could not see his face. 'Most of the Order was there, they'll look after everyone.'

Harry nodded, then remembered that they could not see him, and said, 'Yeah.' But he thought of Ginny, and fear bubbled like acid in his stomach.

'Come on, I think we ought to keep moving,' said Hermione.

They moved back up the side street and onto the main road again, where a group of men on the opposite side was singing and weaving across the pavement.

'Just as a matter of interest, why Tottenham Court Road?' Ron asked Hermione.

'I've no idea, it just popped into my head, but I'm sure we're safer out in the Muggle world, it's not where they'll expect us to be.'

'True,' said Ron, looking around, 'but don't you feel a bit exposed?'

'Where else is there?' asked Hermione, cringing as the men on the other side of the road started wolf-whistling at her. 'We can hardly book rooms at the Leaky Cauldron, can we? And Grimmauld Place is out if Snape can get in there... I suppose we could try my parents' home, though I think there's a chance they might check there... Oh, I wish they'd shut up!'

'All right, darling?' the drunkest of the men on the other pavement was yelling. 'Fancy a drink? Ditch ginger and come and have a pint!'

'Let's sit down somewhere,' Hermione said hastily as Ron opened his mouth to shout back across the road. 'Look, this will do, in here!'

It was a small and shabby all-night café. Harry and Kitty slipped inside first and Ron sat next to him opposite Hermione, who had her back to the entrance and did not like it: She glanced over her shoulder so frequently she appeared to have a twitch. Harry did not like being stationary; walking had given the illusion that they had a goal. Beneath the Cloak he could feel the last vestiges of Polyjuice leaving him, his hands returning to their usual length and shape. He pulled his glasses out of his pocket and put them on again.

After a minute or two, Ron said, 'You know, we're not far from the Leaky Cauldron here, it's only in Charing Cross…'

'Ron, we can't!' said Hermione at once.

'Not to stay there, but to find out what's going on!'

'We know what's going on! Voldemort's taken over the Ministry, what else do we need to know?'

'Okay, okay, it was just an idea!'

They relapsed into a prickly silence. The gum-chewing waitress shuffled over and Hermione ordered two cappuccinos: As Harry and Kitty were invisible, it would have looked odd to order them one. A pair of burly workmen entered the cafe and squeezed into the next booth. Hermione dropped her voice to a whisper.

'I say we find a quiet place to Disapparate and head for the countryside. Once we're there, we could send a message to the Order.'

'Can you do that talking Patronus thing, then?' asked Ron.

'I've been practicing and I think so,' said Hermione.

'Well, as long as it doesn't get them into trouble, though they might've been arrested already. God, that's revolting,' Ron added after one sip of the foamy, grayish coffee. The waitress had heard; she shot Ron a nasty look as she shuffled off to take the new customers' orders. The larger of the two workmen, who was blond and quite huge, now that Harry came to look at him, waved her away. She stared, affronted.

'Let's get going, then, I don't want to drink this muck,' said Ron. 'Hermione, have you got Muggle money to pay for this?'

'Yes, I took out all my Building Society savings before I came to the Burrow. I'll bet all the change is at the bottom,' sighed Hermione, reaching for her beaded bag.

The two workmen made identical movements, and Harry mirrored them without conscious thought: All four of them drew their wands. Ron, a few seconds late in realizing what was going on, lunged across the table, pushing Hermione sideways onto her bench. The force of the Death Eaters' spells shattered the tiled wall where Ron's head had just been, as Harry, still invisible, yelled, 'Stupefy!'

The great blond Death Eater was hit in the face by a jet of red light: He slumped sideways, unconscious. His companion, unable to see who had cast the spell, fired another at Ron: Shining black ropes flew from his wand-tip and bound Ron head to foot, the waitress screamed and ran for the door.

'Relashio!' said Kitty, pointing her wand at Ron. The ropes vanished.

Harry sent another Stunning Spell at the Death Eater with the twisted face who had tied up Ron, but the spell missed, rebounded on the window, and hit the waitress, who collapsed in front of the door.

'Expulso!' bellowed the Death Eater, and the table behind which Harry and Kitty were standing blew up: The force of the explosion slammed them into the wall and she felt her wand leave her hand as the Cloak slipped off them.

'Petrificus Totalus!' screamed Hermione from out of sight, and the Death Eater fell forward like a statue to land with a crunching thud on the mess of broken china, table, and coffee. Hermione crawled out from underneath the bench, shaking bits of glass ashtray out of her hair and trembling all over.

'I should've recognized him, he was there the night Dumbledore died,' Ron said. He turned over the darker Death Eater with his foot; the man's eyes moved rapidly between Harry, Kitty, Ron and Hermione.

'That's Dolohov,' said Ron. 'I recognize him from the old wanted posters. I think the big one's Thorfinn Rowle.'

'Never mind what they're called!' said Kitty a little hysterically. 'How did they find us? What are we going to do?'

Somehow her panic seemed to clear Harry's head.

'Lock the door,' he told her, 'and Ron, turn out the lights.'

He looked down at the paralyzed Dolohov, thinking fast as the lock clicked and Ron used the Deluminator to plunge the café into darkness.

'What are we going to do with them?' Ron whispered to Harry through the dark; then, even more quietly, 'Kill them? They'd kill us. They had a good go just now.'

Hermione shuddered and took a step backward. Harry shook his head.

'We just need to wipe their memories,' said Harry. 'It's better like that, it'll throw them off the scent. If we killed them it'd be obvious we were here.'

'You're best at charms, Kitty,' said Ron.

Kitty took a deep, calming breath, then pointed her wand at Dolohov's forehead and said, 'Obliviate.'

At once, Dolohov's eyes became unfocused and dreamy.

'Brilliant!' said Harry, clapping her on the back. 'Take care of the other one and the waitress while Ron, Hermione and I clear up.'

'Clear up?" said Ron, looking around at the partly destroyed café. 'Why?'

'Don't you think they might wonder what's happened if they wake up and find themselves in a place that looks like it's just been bombed?'

'Oh right, yeah...'

Ron struggled for a moment before managing to extract his wand from his pocket.

'It's no wonder I can't get it out, Hermione, you packed my old jeans, they're tight.'

'Oh, I'm so sorry,' hissed Hermione, and as she dragged the waitress out of sight of the windows, Kitty heard her mutter a suggestion as to where Ron could stick his wand instead.

Once the cafe was restored to its previous condition, they heaved the Death Eaters back into their booth and propped them up facing each other. 'But how did they find us?' Hermione asked, looking from one inert man to the other. 'How did they know where we were?'

'I dunno,' said Harry.

'We need a safe place to hide,' said Ron. ''Give us time to think things through.'

'Grimmauld Place,' said Harry.

The other three gaped.

'Don't be silly, Harry, Snape can get in there!'

'Ron's dad said they've put up jinxes against him and even if they haven't worked,' he pressed on as Hermione began to argue 'so what? I swear, I'd like nothing better than to meet Snape!'

'But…'

'Hermione, where else is there? It's the best chance we've got. Snape's only one Death Eater.'

She could not argue, though she looked as if she would have liked to. While she unlocked the cafe door, Ron clicked the Deluminator to release the cafe's light. Then, on Harry's count of three, they reversed the spells upon their three victims, and before the waitress or either of the Death Eaters could do more than stir sleepily, Harry, Ron and Hermione had turned on the spot and vanished into the compressing darkness once more.

Seconds later Kitty found herself standing in the middle of a familiar small and shabby square. Tall, dilapidated houses looked down on them from every side. Number twelve was visible to them, for they had been told of its existence by Dumbledore, its Secret-Keeper, and they rushed toward it, checking every few yards that they were not being followed or observed. They raced up the stone steps, and Harry tapped the front door once with his wand. They heard a series of metallic clicks and the clatter of a chain, then the door swung open with a creak and they hurried over the threshold.

As Harry closed the door behind them, the old-fashioned gas lamps sprang into life, casting flickering light along the length of the hallway. It looked just as Kitty remembered it: eerie, cobwebbed, the outlines of the house-elf heads on the wall throwing odd shadows up the staircase. Long dark curtains concealed the portrait of Sirius's mother. The only thing that was out of place was the troll's leg umbrella stand, which was lying on its side as if Tonks had just knocked it over again.

'I think somebody's been in here,' Kitty whispered, pointing toward it.

'That could've happened as the Order left,' Ron murmured back.

'So where are these jinxes they put up against Snape?' Harry asked.

'Maybe they're only activated if he shows up?' suggested Ron.

Yet they remained close together on the doormat, backs against the door, scared to move farther into the house.

'Well, we can't stay here forever,' said Harry, and he took a step forward.

'Severus Snape?'

Mad-Eye Moody's voice whispered out of the darkness, making all four of them jump back in fright. 'We're not Snape!' croaked Harry, before something whooshed over him like cold air and his tongue curled backward on itself, making it impossible to speak. Before he had time to feel inside his mouth, however, his tongue had unraveled again.

The other three seemed to have experienced the same unpleasant sensation. Ron was making retching noises; Hermione stammered, 'That m-must have b-been the T-Tongue-Tying Curse Mad-Eye set up for Snape!'

Gingerly Harry took another step forward. Something shifted in the shadows at the end of the hall, and before any of them could say another word, a figure had risen up out of the carpet, tall, dust-colored, and terrible; Hermione screamed and so did Kitty; the gray figure was gliding toward them, faster and faster, its waist-length hair and beard streaming behind it, its face sunken, fleshless, with empty eye sockets: Horribly familiar, dreadfully altered, it raised a wasted arm, pointing at Harry.

'No!' Harry shouted, and though he had raised his wand no spell occurred to him. 'No! It wasn't us! We didn't kill you…'

On the word kill, the figure exploded in a great cloud of dust: Coughing, his eyes watering, Harry looked around to see Hermione crouched on the floor by the door with her arms over her head, and Ron, who was shaking from head to foot, patting her clumsily on the shoulder and saying, 'It's all r-right... It's g-gone...'

'Before we go any farther, I think we'd better check,' whispered Hermione, and she raised her wand and said, 'Homenum revelio.'

Nothing happened.

'Well, you've just had a big shock,' said Ron kindly. 'What was that supposed to do?'

'It did what I meant it to do!' said Hermione rather crossly. 'That was a spell to reveal human presence, and there's nobody here except us!'

'Oh!' said Ron.

'Let's go up,' said Hermione and she led the way up the creaking stairs to the drawing room on the first floor.

Hermione waved her wand to ignite the old gas lamps, then, shivering slightly in the drafty room, she perched on the sofa, her arms wrapped tightly around her. Ron crossed to the window and moved the heavy velvet curtains aside an inch.

'Can't see anyone out there,' he reported.

Harry gave a cry of pain: His scar had burned against as something flashed across his mind like a bright light on water. He saw a large shadow and felt a fury that was not his own pound through his body, violent and brief as an electric shock.

'What did you see?' Ron asked, advancing on Harry. 'Did you see him at my place?'

'No, I just felt anger, he's really angry…'

'But that could be at the Burrow,' said Ron loudly. 'What else? Didn't you see anything? Was he cursing someone?'

'No,' said Harry.

Harry felt badgered, confused, and Hermione did not help as she said in a frightened voice, 'Your scar, again? But what's going on? I thought that connection had closed!'

'It did, for a while,' muttered Harry; his scar was still painful, which made it hard to concentrate. 'I…I think it's started opening again whenever he loses control, that's how it used to…'

'But then you've got to close your mind!' said Hermione shrilly. 'Harry, Dumbledore didn't want you to use that connection, he wanted you to shut it down, that's why you were supposed to use Occlumency! Otherwise Voldemort can plant false images in your mind, remember…'

'Yeah, I do remember, thanks,' said Harry through gritted teeth; he did not need Hermione to tell him that Voldemort had once used this selfsame connection between them to lead him into a trap, nor that it had resulted in Sirius's death.

He turned his back on Ron and Hermione, pretending to examine the old tapestry of the Black family tree on the wall. Then Hermione shrieked: Harry drew his wand again and spun around to see a silver Patronus soar through the drawing room window and land upon the floor in front of them, where it solidified into the weasel that spoke with the voice of Ron's father.

'Family safe, do not reply, we are being watched.'

The Patronus dissolved into nothingness. Ron let out a noise between a whimper and a groan and dropped onto the sofa: Hermione joined him, gripping his arm.

'They're all right, they're all right!' she whispered, and Ron half laughed and hugged her.

Harry muttered something about going to the bathroom, and left the room.

Soon, Kitty heard him call her.

'What is it?' she asked as Harry stepped out of the bathroom.

'Kat, I just saw him. I saw Voldemort. Malfoy was with him,' said Harry, 'But don't tell Ron and Hermione.'

'I won't,' said Kitty impatiently, 'what about Draco? Tell me fast.'

'Voldemort is making him torture another Death Eater called Rowle. He's very angry that I escaped again, and now he's making Malfoy crucio Rowle, and he says that if he doesn't do it, Voldemort will torture Malfoy,' said Harry.

Kitty looked away and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. 'I just wish I could talk to him once.'

_Please review!_


	11. Chapter 11

The Locket

**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP.

Kitty awoke early next morning, wrapped in a sleeping bag in the drawing room. Ron and Hermione were still asleep. Harry's sleeping bag was empty, but he was nowhere to be seen in the room. Instinctively drawing her wand, Kitty got to her feet and checked in all the rooms downstairs before going upstairs.

Kitty kept growing more and more anxious, as she looked in all the rooms and couldn't find Harry. She reached the topmost landing where there were only tow doors. One of the doors was ajar. Raising her wand, she crept slowly towards it, and pushed it open.

She gave a sigh of relief, and lowered her wand, as she saw her brother standing before her.

'You gave me such a fright,' said Kitty.

'Look at that,' said Harry quietly, pointing to a photograph on the wall.

With a leap of pleasure, Kitty recognized her father, his untidy black hair stuck up at the back like Harry's, and he too wore glasses. Beside him was Sirius, carelessly handsome, his slightly arrogant face so much younger and happier than Kitty had ever seen it alive. To Sirius's right stood Pettigrew, more than a head shorter, plump and watery-eyed, flushed with pleasure at his inclusion in this coolest of gangs, with the much-admired rebels that James and Sirius had been. On James's left was Remus, even then a little shabby-looking, but he had the same air of delighted surprise at finding himself liked and included.

Kitty smiled at looked around at the rest of the room. There were several large Gryffindor banners on the walls, pictures of Muggle motorcycles, and (Kitty had to admire Sirius's nerve), several posters of bikini clad Muggle girls.

'And look at this,' said Harry, handing her a bit of parchment.

Kitty took it and read:

_'Dear Padfoot,_

Thank you, thank you, for Harry's birthday present! It was his favorite by far. Three years old and already zooming along on a toy broomstick, he looked so pleased with himself. I'm enclosing a picture so you can see. You know it only rises about two feet off the ground but he nearly killed the cat and he smashed a horrible vase Petunia sent me for Christmas (no complaints there). Of course James thought it was so funny, says he's going to be a great Quidditch player but we've had to pack away all the ornaments and make sure we don't take our eyes off him when he gets going.

We had a very quiet birthday tea, just us and old Bathilda who has always been sweet to us and who dotes on Harry and Kitty. We were so sorry you couldn't come, but the Order's got to come first. James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell, also Dumbledore's still got his Invisibility Cloak, so no chance of little excursions. If you could visit, it would cheer him up so much. Wormy was here last weekend. I thought he seemed down, but that was probably the next about the McKinnons; I cried all evening when I heard.

Bathilda drops in most days, she's a fascinating old thing with the most amazing stories about Dumbledore. I'm not sure he'd be pleased if he knew! I don't know how much to believe, actually because it seems incredible that Dumbledore…'

'Where's the next page?' said Kitty.

'Dunno,' said Harry, 'that's all there was.'

Kitty looked down at the parchment and read it again. The writing, her mother's writing, was so like hers. The letter was an incredible treasure, proof that Lily Potter had lived, really lived, that her warm hand had once moved across this parchment, tracing ink into these letters, these words, words about her and Harry.

Why had Dumbledore got her father's Invisibility Cloak, though? Had he been afraid that James might sneak out of the house under it? Wormy was here... Pettigrew, the traitor, had seemed "down" had he? Was he aware that he was seeing James and Lily alive for the last time?

Harry was on his fours in Sirius's bedroom, looking for the rest of the letter. He picked up a torn piece of paper and looked at it. Then he passed it to Kitty. It proved to be most of the photograph that Lily had described in her letter. A black-haired toddler was zooming in and out of the picture on a tiny broom, roaring with laughter, and a pair of legs that must have belonged to James was chasing after him. Lily was standing with a small baby in her arms, that was wrapped in a bundle of robes.

'Harry! Kitty! Harry!' came a voice.

'We're here!' called Harry hastily, as Ron and Hermione came bursting inside.

'What're you…' Hermione began and stared at the letter in Harry's hand.

Harry showed it to her. When she had read it, she looked up.

'And there's this too,' said Kitty, handing her the photograph. Hermione smiled as she looked at Harry zooming around on the broom.

'Did you make this mess?' said Ron, looking around.

'No,' said Harry, 'Someone's been here before us. They searched every room.'

'What were they after?' said Kitty.

'Information on the Order, possibly,' said Harry.

'But Snape must have already told them all they needed to know,' said Kitty.

'Well then,' said Ron, 'what about information on Dumbledore? The second page of the letter, for instance. You know this Bathilda your mum mentions, you know who she is?'

'I dunno, but I think I've read the name somewhere,' said Kitty, frowning.

'Bathilda Bagshot,' said Hermione 'is the author of A History of Magic. She's a very famous magic historian.'

'And she's still alive,' said Harry, 'and she lives in Godric's Hollow. Ron's Auntie Muriel was talking about her at the wedding. She knew Dumbledore's family too. Be pretty interesting to talk to, wouldn't she?'

'I understand why you'd love to talk to her about your mum and dad, and Dumbledore too,' said Hermione. 'But that wouldn't really help us in our search for the Horcruxes, would it?'

Harry did not answer, and she rushed on, 'Harry, I know you really want to go to Godric's Hollow, but I'm scared. I'm scared at how easily those Death Eaters found us yesterday. It just makes me feel more than ever that we ought to avoid the place where your parents are buried, I'm sure they'd be expecting you to visit it.'

'But, Hermione…' began Kitty.

'We'll talk about this later. I think we should go and find some breakfast,' said Hermione, walking out of the door. Ron, Harry and Kitty followed her.

'R.A.B.' said Harry suddenly, 'Look at that!'

Kitty looked at the door he was pointing at, and saw a sign saying_: 'Do Not Enter Without the Express Permission of Regulus Arcturus Black.'_

'Of course,' aid Kitty, 'that's who R.A.B. is.'

'Sirius's brother?' whispered Hermione.

Ron kicked the door open and the four of them entered the room. Regulus's bedroom was slightly smaller than Sirius's, though it had the same sense of former grandeur. Whereas Sirius had sought to advertise his diffidence from the rest of the family, Regulus had striven to emphasize the opposite. The Slytherin colors of emerald and silver were everywhere, draping the bed, the walls, and the windows. The Black family crest was painstakingly painted over the bed, along with its motto, TOUJOURS PUR. Beneath this was a collection of yellow newspaper cuttings, all stuck together to make a ragged collage. Hermione crossed the room to examine them.

'They're all about Voldemort,' she said. 'Regulus seems to have been a fan for a few years before he joined the Death Eaters ...'

'Accio Locket!' said Kitty, but nothing happened. They combed every inch of the room for more than an hour, but were forced, finally, to conclude that the locket was not there.

'It could be somewhere else in the house, though,' said Hermione in a rallying tone as they walked back downstairs. As Harry, Kitty and Ron had become more discouraged, she seemed to have become more determined. 'Whether he'd manage to destroy it or not, he'd want to keep it hidden from Voldemort, wouldn't he? Remember all those awful things we had to get rid of when we were here last time? That clock that shot bolts at everyone and those old robes that tried to strangle Ron; Regulus might have put them there to protect the locket's hiding place, even though we didn't realize it at ... at ...'

Harry, Kitty and Ron looked at her. She was standing with one foot in midair, with the dumbstruck look of one who had just been Obliviated: her eyes had even drifted out of focus.

'... at the time,' she finished in a whisper.

'Something wrong?' asked Ron.

'There was a locket.'

'What?' said Harry, Kitty and Ron together.

'In the cabinet in the drawing room. Nobody could open it. And we ... we ...'

Harry felt as though a brick had slid down through his chest into his stomach. He remembered. He had even handled the thing as they passed it around, each trying in turn to pry it open. It had been tossed into a sack of rubbish, along with the snuffbox of Wartcap powder and the music box that had made everyone sleepy ...

'Kreacher nicked loads of things back from us,' said Harry. It was the only chance, the only slender hope left to them, and he was going to cling to it until forced to let go. 'He had a whole stash of stuff in his cupboard in the kitchen. C'mon.'

He ran down the stairs taking two steps at a time, the other three thundering along in his wake. Harry ran the length of the room, skidded to a halt at the door of Kreacher's cupboard, and wrenched it open. There was the nest of dirty old blankets in which the house-elf had once slept, but they were not longer glittering with the trinkets Kreacher had salvaged. The only thing there was an old copy of Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy. Refusing to believe his eyes, Harry snatched up the blankets and shook them. A dead mouse fell out and rolled dismally across the floor. Ron groaned as he threw himself into a kitchen chair; Hermione closed her eyes.

'It's not over yet,' said Harry, and he raised his voice and called, 'Kreacher!'

There was a loud crack and the house elf appeared.

'Master,' croaked Kreacher in his bullfrog's voice, and he bowed low; muttering to his knees, 'back in my Mistress's old house with his sister and the blood-traitor Weasley and the Mudblood…'

'I forbid you to call anyone blood traitor or Mudblood,' growled Harry. 'I've got a question for you and I order you to answer it truthfully. Understand?'

'Yes, Master,' said Kreacher, bowing low again.

'Two years ago,' said Harry, his heart now hammering against his ribs, 'there was a big gold locket in the drawing room upstairs. We threw it out. Did you steal it back?'

There was a moment's silence, during which Kreacher straightened up to look Harry full in the face. Then he said, 'Yes.'

'Where is it now?' asked Harry jubilantly as Ron, Kitty and Hermione looked gleeful.

'Gone.'

'Gone?' echoed Harry, elation floating out of him, 'What do you mean, it's gone?'

The elf shivered. He swayed.

'Kreacher,' said Harry fiercely, 'I order you…'

'Mundungus Fletcher,' croaked the elf, his eyes still tight shut. 'Mundungus Fletcher stole it all; Miss Bella's and Miss Cissy's pictures, my Mistress's gloves, the Order of Merlin, First Class, the goblets with the family crest, and…and…and the locket, Master Regulus's locket. Kreacher did wrong, Kreacher failed in his orders!'

'Kreacher, I want the truth: How do you know Mundungus Fletcher stole the locket?' said Harry.

'Kreacher saw him!' gasped the elf as tears poured over his snout and into his mouth full of graying teeth. 'Kreacher saw him coming out of Kreacher's cupboard with his hands full of Kreacher's treasures. Kreacher told the sneak thief to stop, but Mundungus Fletcher laughed and r-ran …'

'You called the locket Master Regulus's,' said Harry. 'Why? Where did it come from? What did Regulus have to do with it? Kreacher, sit up and tell me everything you know about that locket, and everything Regulus had to do with it!'

The elf sat up, curled into a ball, placed his wet face between his knees, and began to rock backward and forward. When he spoke, his voice was muffled but quite distinct in the silent, echoing kitchen.

'Master Sirius ran away, good riddance, for he was a bad boy and broke my Mistress's heart with his lawless ways. But Master Regulus had proper order; he knew what was due to the name of Black and the dignity of his pure blood. For years he talked of the Dark Lord, who was going to bring the wizards out of hiding to rule the Muggles and the Muggle-borns ... and when he was sixteen years old, Master Regulus joined the Dark Lord. So proud, so proud, so happy to serve ...

And one day, a year after he joined, Master Regulus came down to the kitchen to see Kreacher. Master Regulus always liked Kreacher. And Master Regulus said ... he said ...'

The old elf rocked faster than ever.

'... he said that the Dark Lord required an elf.'

'Voldemort needed an elf?' Harry repeated, looking around at Ron, Kitty and Hermione, who looked just as puzzled as he did.

'Oh yes,' moaned Kreacher. 'And Master Regulus had volunteered Kreacher. It was an honor, said Master Regulus, an honor for him and for Kreacher, who must be sure to do whatever the Dark Lord ordered him to do ... and then to c-come home.'

Kreacher rocked still faster, his breath coming in sobs.

'So Kreacher went to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord did not tell Kreacher what they were to do, but took Kreacher with him to a cave beside the sea. And beyond the cave was a cavern, and in the cavern was a great black lake ... there was a boat ...There was a b-basin full of potion on the island. The D-Dark Lord made Kreacher drink it ...'

The elf quaked from head to foot.

'Kreacher drank, and as he drank he saw terrible thing ... Kreacher's insides burned ... Kreacher cried for Master Regulus to save him, he cried for his Mistress Black, but the Dark Lord only laughed ... He made Kreacher drink all the potion ... He dropped a locket into the empty basin ... He filled it with more potion.'

'And then the Dark Lord sailed away, leaving Kreacher on the island ...'

Kitty could see it happening. She watched Voldemort's white, snakelike face vanishing into darkness, those red eyes fixed pitilessly on the thrashing elf whose death would occur within minutes, whenever he succumbed to the desperate thirst that the burning poison caused its victim ... But here, Kitty's imagination could go no further, for she could not see how Kreacher had escaped.

'Kreacher needed water, he crawled to the island's edge and he drank from the black lake ... and hands, dead hands, came out of the water and dragged Kreacher under the surface ...'

'How did you get away?' Kitty asked, and she was not surprised to hear herself whispering.

Kreacher raised his ugly head and looked Kitty with his great, bloodshot eyes.

'Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back,' he said.

'I know, but how did you escape the Inferi?'

Kreacher did not seem to understand.

'Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back,' he repeated.

'Well, it's obvious, isn't it,?' said Ron. 'He Disapparated!'

'But ... you couldn't Apparate in and out of that cave,' said Harry, 'otherwise Dumbledore…'

'Elf magic isn't like wizard's magic, is it?' said Ron, 'I mean, they can Apparate and Disapparate in and out of Hogwarts when we can't.'

There was a silence as Kitty digested this. How could Voldemort have made such a mistake? But even as he thought this, Hermione spoke, and her voice was icy.

'Of course, Voldemort would have considered the ways of house-elves far beneath his notice ... It would never have occurred to him that they might have magic that he didn't.'

'The house-elf's highest law is his Master's bidding,' intoned Kreacher. 'Kreacher was told to come home, so Kreacher came home ...'

'Well, then, you did what you were told, didn't you?' said Hermione kindly. 'You didn't disobey orders at all!'

Kreacher shook his head, rocking as fast as ever.

'So what happened when you got back?' Harry asked. 'What did Regulus say when you told him what happened?'

'Master Regulus was very worried, very worried,' croaked Kreacher. 'Master Regulus told Kreacher to stay hidden and not to leave the house. And then ... it was a little while later ... Master Regulus came to find Kreacher in his cupboard one night, and Master Regulus was strange, not as he usually was, disturbed in his mind, Kreacher could tell ... and he asked Kreacher to take him to the cave, the cave where Kreacher had gone with the Dark Lord ...'

And so they had set off. Kitty could visualize them quite clearly, the frightened old elf and the thin, dark man who had so resembled Sirius ... Kreacher knew how to open the concealed entrance to the underground cavern, knew how to raise the tiny boat: this time it was his beloved Regulus who sailed with him to the island with its basin of poison ...

'And he made you drink the poison?' said Kitty, disgusted.

But Kreacher shook his head and wept. Hermione's hands leapt to her mouth: She seemed to have understood something.

'M-Master Regulus took from his pocket a locket like the one the Dark Lord had,' said Kreacher, tears pouring down either side of his snoutlike nose. 'And he told Kreacher to take it and, when the basin was empty, to switch the lockets ...'

Kreacher's sobs came in great rasps now; Harry had to concentrate hard to understand him.

'And he ordered Kreacher to leave without him. And he told Kreacher to go home and never to tell my Mistress what he had done but to destroy the first locket. And he drank all the potion and Kreacher swapped the lockets and watched ... as Master Regulus ... was dragged beneath the water ... and ...'

'Oh, Kreacher!' wailed Hermione, who was crying. She dropped to her knees beside the elf and tried to hug him. At once he was on his feet, cringing away from her, quite obviously repulsed.

'The Mudblood touched Kreacher, he will not allow it, what would his Mistress say?'

'I told you not to call her 'Mudblood'!' snarled Harry, but the elf was already punishing himself. He fell to the ground and banged his forehead on the floor.

'Stop him …stop him!' Hermione cried. 'Oh, don't you see now how sick it is, the way they've got to obey?'

'Kreacher stop, stop!' shouted Harry.

The elf lay on the floor, panting and shivering, green mucus glistening around his snot, a bruise already blooming on his pallid forehead where he had struck himself, his eyes swollen and bloodshot and swimming in tears. Kitty had never seen anything so pitiful.

'So you brought the locket home,' she said relentlessly, for she was determined to know the full story. 'And you tried to destroy it?'

'Nothing Kreacher did made any mark upon it,' moaned the elf. 'Kreacher tried everything, everything he knew, but nothing, nothing would work ... So many powerful spells upon the casing, Kreacher was sure the way to destroy it was to get inside it, but it would not open ... Kreacher punished himself, he tried again, he punished himself, he tried again. Kreacher failed to obey orders, Kreacher could not destroy the locket! And his mistress was mad with grief, because Master Regulus had disappeared and Kreacher could not tell her what had happened, no, because Master Regulus had f-f-forbidden him to tell any of the f-f-family what happened in the c-cave ...'

'I don't understand you, Kreacher,' Harry said finally. 'Voldemort tried to kill you, Regulus died to bring Voldemort down, but you were still happy to betray Sirius to Voldemort? You were happy to go to Narcissa and Bellatrix, and pass information to Voldemort through them ...'

'Harry, Kreacher doesn't think like that,' said Hermione, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. 'He's a slave; house-elves are used to bad, even brutal treatment; what Voldemort did to Kreacher wasn't that far out of the common way. What do wizard wars mean to an elf like Kreacher? He's loyal to people who are kind to him, and Mrs. Black must have been, and Regulus certainly was, so he served them willingly and parroted their beliefs. I know what you're going to say,' she went on as Harry began to protest, 'that Regulus changed his mind ... but he doesn't seem to have explained that to Kreacher, does he? And I think I know why. Kreacher and Regulus's family were all safest if they kept to the old pure-blood line. Regulus was trying to protect them all.'

'Sirius…'

'Sirius was horrible to Kreacher, Harry, and it's no good looking like that, you know it's true. Kreacher had been alone for such a long time when Sirius came to live here, and he was probably starving for a bit of affection. I'm sure 'Miss Cissy' and 'Miss Bella' were perfectly lovely to Kreacher when he turned up, so he did them a favor and told them everything they wanted to know. I've said all along that wizards would pay for how they treat house-elves. Well, Voldemort did ... and so did Sirius.'

Harry had no retort. As he watched Kreacher sobbing on the floor, he remembered what Dumbledore had said to him, mere hours after Sirius's death: I do not think Sirius ever saw Kreacher as a being with feelings as acute as a human's ...

'Kreacher,' said Harry after a while, 'when you feel up to it, er ... please sit up.'

It was several minutes before Kreacher hiccupped himself into silence. Then he pushed himself into a sitting position again, rubbing his knuckles into his eyes like a small child.

'Kreacher, I am going to ask you to do something,' said Harry. He glanced at Hermione for assistance. He wanted to give the order kindly, but at the same time, he could not pretend that it was not an order. However, the change in his tone seemed to have gained her approval: She smiled encouragingly.

'Kreacher, I want you, please, to go and find Mundungus Fletcher. We need to find out where the locket…where Master Regulus's locket it. It's really important. We want to finish the work Master Regulus started, we want to…er…ensure that he didn't die in vain.'

Kreacher dropped his fists and looked up at Harry.

'Find Mundungus Fletcher?' he croaked.

'And bring him here, to Grimmauld Place,' said Harry. 'Do you think you could do that for us?'

As Kreacher nodded and got to his feet, Harry had a sudden inspiration. He pulled out Hagrid's purse and took out the fake Horcrux, the substitute locket in which Regulus had placed the note to Voldemort.

'Kreacher, I'd, er, like you to have this,' he said, pressing the locket into the elf's hand. 'This belonged to Regulus and I'm sure he'd want you to have it as a token of gratitude for what you…'

'Overkill, mate,' said Ron as the elf took one look at the locket, let out a howl of shock and misery, and threw himself back onto the ground.

It took them nearly half an hour to calm down Kreacher, who was so overcome to be presented with a Black family heirloom for his very own that he was too weak at the knees to stand properly before Disapparating with the usual loud crack.

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	12. Chapter 12

Harry and Remus

**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP.

'Harry,' said Kitty looking at her brother, terrified.

'What is it?' said Ron, taking one look at her expression, and pulling out his wand.

'There are two men right outside who are looking in the direction of the house. I think they're Death Eaters for sure,' said Kitty.

Harry, Ron and Hermione got up and looked out of the living room windows.

'They're probably expecting us to turn up,' said Hermione, 'They know that the house belongs to Harry.'

'Listen, they obviously don't know how to get in, or they'd have done so already,' said Harry, 'let's not worry about them, for now.'

'Okay,' said Kitty, walking up to the front door, and peering out of the keyhole. All of a sudden, she heard a tap on the door, then metallic clicks, and the grinding of a chain.

Kitty stepped back, and pulled out her wand. The door opened: she saw a glimpse of the lamplit square outside, and a cloaked figure edged into the hall and closed the door behind it. The intruder took a step forward, and Moody's voice asked, 'Severus Snape?' Then the dust figure rose from the end of the hall and rushed him, raising its dead hand.

'It was not I who killed you, Albus,' said a quiet voice.

The jinx broke: The dust-figure exploded again, and it was impossible to make out the newcomer through the dense gray cloud it left behind.

'Remus?' said Kitty, not daring to lower her wand.

'Yes,' said Remus, and lowered his cloak.

'Oh, thank goodness,' said Kitty weakly and flung herself at him.

Harry, Ron and Hermione rushed into the hall, with their wands out. Harry pulled Kitty away from Remus, and pointed his wand at him.

'I am Remus John Lupin, werewolf, sometimes known as Moony, one of the four creators of the Marauder's Map, married to Nymphadora, usually known as Tonks, godfather to Kitty and I taught you how to produce a Patronus, Harry, which takes the form of a stag.'

'Oh, all right,' said Harry, lowering his wand, 'but I had to check, didn't I?'

'Speaking as your ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, I quite agree that you had to check. Kitty, Ron, Hermione, you shouldn't be so quick to lower your defenses. No sign of Severus, then?' he said.

'No,' said Kitty. 'What's going on? Is everyone okay? Tonks… she's okay, isn't she?'

'Yes,' said Remus, 'but we're all being watched. There are a couple of Death Eaters in the square outside. I had to Apparate very precisely onto the top step outside the front door to be sure that they would not see me. They can't know you're in here or I'm sure they'd have more people out there; they're staking out everywhere that's got any connection with you, Harry. Let's go into the kitchen, there's a lot to tell you, and I want to know what happened after you left the Burrow.'

They descended into the kitchen, where Hermione pointed her wand at the grate. A fire sprang up instantly: It gave the illusion of coziness to the stark stone walls and glistened off the long wooden table. Remus pulled a few butterbeers from beneath his traveling cloak and they sat down.

'I'd have been here three days ago but I needed to shake off the Death Eater tailing me,' said Remus. 'So, you came straight here after the wedding?'

'No,' said Harry, 'only after we ran into a couple of Death Eaters in a cafe on Tottenham Court Road.'

Remus slopped most of his butterbeer down his front.

'What?'

They explained what had happened; when they had finished, Remus looked aghast.

'But how did they find you so quickly? It's almost impossible to track anyone who Apparates, unless you grab hold of them as they disappear.'

'And it doesn't seem likely they were just strolling down Tottenham Court Road at the time, does it?' said Harry.

He looked disturbed.

'Tell us what happened after we left, we haven't heard a thing since Ron's dad told us the family was safe,' said Kitty.

'Well, Kingsley saved us,' said Remus. 'Thanks to his warning most of the wedding guests were able to Disapparate before they arrived.'

'Were they Death Eaters or Ministry people?' interjected Hermione.

'A mixture; but to all intents and purposes they're the same thing now,' said Remus. 'There were about a dozen of them, but they didn't know you were there, Harry. Arthur heard a rumor that they tried to torture your whereabouts out of Scrimgeour before they killed him; if it's true, he didn't give you away.'

Harry looked at Kitty, Ron and Hermione; their expressions reflected the mingled shock and gratitude he felt. He had never liked Scrimgeour much, but if what Remus said was true, the man's final act had been to try to protect Harry.

'The Death Eaters searched the Burrow from top to bottom,' Remus went on. 'They found the ghoul, but didn't want to get too close and then they interrogated those of us who remained for hours. They were trying to get information on you, Harry, but of course nobody apart from the Order knew that you had been there.'

'At the same time that they were smashing up the wedding, more Death Eaters were forcing their way into every Order-connected house in the country. No deaths,' he added quickly, forestalling the question, 'but they were rough. They burned down Dedalus Diggle's house, but as you know he wasn't there, and they used the Cruciatus Curse on Tonks's family. Again, trying to find out where you went after you visited them. They're all right shaken, obviously, but otherwise okay.'

'The Death Eaters got through all those protective charms?' Harry asked, remembering how effective these had been on the night he had crashed in Tonks's parents' garden.

'What you've got to realize, Harry, is that the Death Eaters have got the full might of the Ministry on their side now,' said Remus. 'They've got the power to perform brutal spells without fear of identification or arrest. They managed to penetrate every defensive spell we'd cast against them, and once inside, they were completely open about why they'd come.'

'And are they bothering to give an excuse for torturing Harry's whereabouts out of people?' asked Hermione, an edge to her voice.

'Well,' Remus said. He hesitated, and then pulled out a folded copy of the Daily Prophet.

'Here,' he said, pushing it across the table to Harry, 'you'll know sooner or later anyway. That's their pretext for going after you.'

Harry smoothed out the paper. A huge photograph of his own face and that of Kitty's filled the front page. He read the headline over it:

_WANTED FOR QUESTIONING ABOUT THE DEATH OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_

Ron, Kitty and Hermione gave roars of outrage, but Harry said nothing. He pushed the newspaper away; he did not want to read anymore: Nobody but those who had been on top of the tower when Dumbledore died knew who had really killed him and, as Rita Skeeter had already told the Wizarding world, Harry had been seen running from the place moments after Dumbledore had fallen.

'I'm sorry,' Remus said.

'So Death Eaters have taken over the Daily Prophet too?' asked Hermione furiously.

Remus nodded.

'But surely people realize what's going on?'

'The coup has been smooth and virtually silent,' said Remus.

'The official version of Scrimgeour's murder is that he resigned; he has been replaced by Pius Thicknesse, who is under the Imperius Curse.'

'Why didn't Voldemort declare himself Minister of Magic?' asked Kitty.

Remus laughed.

'He doesn't need to, Kitty. Effectively, he is the Minister, but why should he sit behind a desk at the Ministry? His puppet, Thicknesse, is taking care of everyday business, leaving Voldemort free to extend his power beyond the Ministry.'

'Naturally many people have deduced what has happened: There has been such a dramatic change in Ministry policy in the last few days, and many are whispering that Voldemort must be behind it. However, that is the point: They whisper. They daren't confide in each other, not knowing whom to trust; they are scared to speak out, in case their suspicions are true and their families are targeted. Yes, Voldemort is playing a very clever game. Declaring himself might have provoked open rebellion: Remaining masked has created confusion, uncertainty, and fear.'

'And this dramatic change in Ministry policy,' said Harry, 'involves warning the Wizarding world against me instead of Voldemort?'

'That's certainly a part of it,' said Remus, 'and it is a masterstroke. Now that Dumbledore is dead, you, the Boy Who Lived were sure to be the symbol and rallying point for any resistance to Voldemort. But by suggesting that you and Kitty had a hand in the old hat's death, Voldemort has not only set a price upon your head, but sown doubt and fear amongst many who would have defended you.'

'Meanwhile, the Ministry has started moving against Muggle-borns.'

Remus pointed at the Daily Prophet.

'Look at page two.'

Hermione turned the pages with much the same expression of distaste she had when handling Secrets of the Darkest Art.

'Muggle-born Register!' she read aloud. 'The Ministry of Magic is undertaking a survey of so-called "Muggle-borns" the better to understand how they came to possess magical secrets. Recent research undertaken by the Department of Mysteries reveals that magic can only be passed from person to person when Wizards reproduce. Where no proven Wizarding ancestry exists, therefore, the so-called Muggle-born is likely to have obtained magical power by theft or force. The Ministry is determined to root out such usurpers of magical power, and to this end has issued an invitation to every so-called Muggle-born to present themselves for interview by the newly appointed Muggle-born Registration Commission.'

'People won't let this happen,' said Ron.

'It is happening, Ron,' said Remus. 'Muggle-borns are being rounded up as we speak.'

'But how are they supposed to have 'stolen' magic?' said Ron. 'It's mental, if you could steal magic there wouldn't be any Squibs, would there?'

'I know,'said Remus. 'Nevertheless, unless you can prove that you have at least one close Wizarding relative, you are now deemed to have obtained your magical power illegally and must suffer the punishment.'

Ron glanced at Hermione, then said, 'What if purebloods and halfbloods swear a Muggle-born's part of their family? I'll tell everyone Hermione's my cousin…'

Hermione covered Ron's hand with hers and squeezed it.

'Thank you, Ron, but I couldn't let you…'

'You won't have a choice,' said Ron fiercely, gripping her hand back. 'I'll teach you my family tree so you can answer questions on it.'

Hermione gave a shaky laugh.

'Ron, as we're on the run with Harry Potter, the most wanted person in the country, I don't think it matters. If I was going back to school it would be different. What's Voldemort planning for Hogwarts?'she asked Remus.

'Attendance is now compulsory for every young witch and wizard, and I'm glad that you four are not going back,' he replied. 'That was announced yesterday. It's a change, because it was never obligatory before. Of course, nearly every witch and wizard in Britain has been educated at Hogwarts, but their parents had the right to teach them at home or send them abroad if they preferred. This way, Voldemort will have the whole Wizarding population under his eye from a young age. And it's also another way of weeding out Muggle-borns, because students must be given Blood Status ¨C meaning that they have proven to the Ministry that they are of Wizard descent before they are allowed to attend.'

Harry felt sickened and angry: At this moment, excited eleven-year-olds would be poring over stacks of newly purchased spell-books, unaware that they would never see Hogwarts, perhaps never see their families again either.

'It's... it's...' he muttered, struggling to find words that did justice to the horror of his thoughts, but Remus said quietly, 'I know. I'll understand if you can't confirm this, Harry, but the Order is under the impression that Dumbledore left you a mission.'

'He did,' Harry replied, 'Kat and Ron and Hermione are in on it and they're coming with me.'

'Can you confide in me what the mission is?'

'I can't, Remus, I'm sorry. If Dumbledore didn't tell you I don't think I can.'

'I thought you'd say that,' said Remus, looking disappointed. 'But I might still be of some use to you. You know what I am and what I can do. I could come with you to provide protection. There would be no need to tell me exactly what you were up to.'

Harry hesitated. It was a very tempting offer, though how they would be able to keep their mission secret from Remus if he were with them all the time he could not imagine.

Kitty, however, looked puzzled.

'But what about Tonks?' she asked.

'What about her?' said Remus.

'Well,' said Kitty, frowning, 'you're married! How does she feel about you going away with us?'

'Tonks will be perfectly safe,' said Remus, 'She'll be at her parents' house.'

There was something strange in Lupin's tone, it was almost cold. There was also something odd in the idea of Tonks remaining hidden at her parents' house; she was, after all, a member of the Order and, as far as Harry knew, was likely to want to be in the thick of the action.

'Remus,' said Kitty tentatively, 'is everything all right... you know... between you and…'

'Everything is fine, thank you,' said Remus pointedly.

Kitty turned pink. There was another pause, an awkward and embarrassed one, and then Remus said, with an air of forcing himself to admit something unpleasant, 'Tonks is going to have a baby.'

'Oh, how wonderful!' squealed Kitty and Hermione.

'Excellent!' said Ron enthusiastically.

'Congratulations,' said Harry.

Remus gave an artificial smile that was more like a grimace, then said, 'So... do you accept my offer? Will four become five? I cannot believe that Dumbledore would have disapproved, he appointed me your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all. And I must tell you that I believe we are facing magic many of us have never encountered or imagined.'

Ron, Kitty and Hermione both looked at Harry.

'Just … just to be clear,' he said. 'You want to leave Tonks at her parents' house and come away with us?'

'She'll be perfectly safe there, they'll look after her,' said Remus. He spoke with a finality bordering on indifference: 'Harry, I'm sure James would have wanted me to stick with you both. Besides, I'm Kitty's godfather and its my duty to protect her.'

'Well,' said Harry slowly, 'I'm not. I'm pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren't sticking with your own kid, actually.'

Remus's face drained of color. The temperature in the kitchen might have dropped ten degrees. Ron stared around the room as though he had been bidden to memorize it, while Hermione's eyes swiveled backward and forward from Harry to Remus.

'You don't understand,' said Remus at last.

'Explain, then,' said Harry.

Remus swallowed.

'I…I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks. I did it against my better judgment and have regretted it very much every since.'

'I see,' said Harry, 'so you're just going to dump her and the kid and run off with us?'

'Harry, stop talking to him like that!' said Kitty loudly.

Remus sprang to his feet: His chair toppled over backward, and he glared at them so fiercely that Kitty saw, for the first time ever, the shadow of the wolf upon his human face.

'Don't you understand what I've done to my wife and my unborn child? I should never have married her; I've made her an outcast!'

Remus kicked aside the chair he had overturned.

'You have only ever seen me amongst the Order, or under Dumbledore's protection at Hogwarts! You don't know how most of the Wizarding world sees creatures like me! When they know of my affliction, they can barely talk to me! Don't you see what I've done? Even her own family is disgusted by our marriage, what parents want their only daughter to marry a werewolf? And the child…the child…'

Remus actually seized handfuls of his own hair; he looked quite deranged.

'My kind don't usually breed! It will be like me, I am convinced of it. How can I forgive myself, when I knowingly risked passing on my own condition to an innocent child? And if, by some miracle, it is not like me, then it will be better off, a hundred times so, without a father of whom it must always be ashamed!'

'Remus!' whispered Kitty, tears in her eyes. 'Don't say that…how could any child be ashamed of you?'

'Oh, I don't know, Kitty,' said Harry. 'I'd be pretty ashamed of him.'

Harry did not know where his rage was coming from, but it had propelled him to his feet too.

Remuslooked as though Harry had hit him.

'If the new regime thinks Muggle-borns are bad,' Harry said, 'what will they do to a half-werewolf whose father's in the Order? My father died trying to protect my mother and me, and you reckon he'd tell you to abandon your kid to go on an adventure with us?'

'How…how dare you?' said Remus. 'This is not about a desire for…for danger or personal glory…how dare you suggest such a…'

'I think you're feeling a bit of a daredevil,' Harry said, 'You fancy stepping into Sirius's shoes…'

'Harry, no!' Kitty begged him, but he continued to glare into Remus's livid face.

'I'd never have believed this,' Harry said. 'The man who taught me to fight Dementors is a coward. The man who is my sister's godfather doesn't love his own kid.'

Remus drew his wand so fast that Harry had barely reached for his own; there was a loud bang and he felt himself flying backward as if punched; as he slammed into the kitchen wall and slid to the floor, he glimpsed the tail of Remus's cloak disappearing around the door.

'Remus, Remus, come back!' Kitty cried, but Remus did not respond. A moment later they heard the front door slam.

'Harry!' wailed Kitty. 'How could you?'

'It was easy,' said Harry. He stood up, he could feel a lump swelling where his head had hit the wall. He was still so full of anger he was shaking.

'Don't look at me like that!' he snapped at Kitty. 'I think it's really selfish of you to want Remus to leave his kid and come with us, just so that you're with him.'

'Don't you start on us now!' snarled Ron.

'No…no…we mustn't fight!' said Hermione, launching herself between them.

'You shouldn't have said that stuff to Remus,' Ron told Harry.

'He had it coming to him,' said Harry. Broken images were racing each other through his mind: Sirius falling through the veil; Dumbledore suspended, broken, in midair; a flash of green light and his mother's voice, begging for mercy...

'Parents,' said Harry, 'shouldn't leave their kids unless…unless they've got to.'

'Harry, I didn't want him to leave the Tonks and the baby,' said Kitty, 'I would have told him to go back too. But the way you said it, it wasn't right!'

'Harry…' said Hermione, stretching out a consoling hand, but he shrugged it off and walked away, his eyes on the fire Hermione had conjured.

'I know I shouldn't have called him a coward.'

'No, you shouldn't,' said Ron at once.

'But he's acting like one.'

'All the same…' said Hermione.

'I know,' said Harry. 'But if it makes him go back to Tonks, it'll be worth it, won't it? And, I'm sorry Kat.'

'Its okay,' said Kitty, 'I want him to go back to Tonks too. I want someone to be there for him, when we—when I am not there. Who knows whether I might stay alive long enough to see him again?'

'I'll take care of that,' said Harry.

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	13. Chapter 13

Mundungus Fletcher

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

A deafening crack echoed round the kitchen. Kitty's immediate thought was Remus, but then, a voice croaked, 'Kreacher has returned with the thief Mundungus, Master.'

Mundungus scrambled up and pulled out his wand; Hermione, however, was too quick for him.

'Expelliarmus!'

Mundungus's wand soared into the air, and Hermione caught it. Wild-eyed, Mundungus dived for the stairs. Ron rugby-tackled him and Mundungus hit the stone floor with a muffled crunch.

'What?' he bellowed, writhing in his attempts to free himself from Ron's grip. 'Wha've I done? Setting a bleedin' 'house-elf on me, what are you playing at, wha've I done, lemme go, lemme go!'

'You're not in much of a position to make threats,' said Harry. He threw aside a newspaper, crossed the kitchen in a few strides, and dropped to his knees beside Mundungus, who stopped struggling and looked terrified. Ron got up, panting, and watched as Harry pointed his wand deliberately at Mundungus's nose. Mundungus stank of stale sweat and tobacco smoke. His hair was matted and his robes stained.

'Kreacher apologizes for the delay in bringing the thief, Master,' croaked the elf. 'Fletcher knows how to avoid capture, has many hidey-holes and accomplices. Nevertheless, Kreacher cornered the thief in the end.'

'You've done really well, Kreacher,' said Harry, and the elf bowed low.

'Right, we've got a few questions for you,' Harry told Mundungus, who shouted at once.

'I panicked, okay? I never wanted to come along, no offense, mate, but I never volunteered to die for you, an' that was bleedin' You-Know-Who come flying at me, anyone woulda got outta there. I said all along I didn't wanna do it…'

'For your information, none of the rest of us Disapparated,' said Hermione.

'Well, you're a bunch of bleedin' 'eroes then, aren't you, but I never pretended I was up for killing meself…'

'We're not interested in why you ran out on Mad-Eye,' said Harry, moving his wand a little closer to Mundungus's baggy, bloodshot eyes. 'We already knew you were an unreliable bit of scum.'

'Well then, why the 'ell am I being 'unted down by 'ouse-elves? Or is this about them goblets again? I ain't got none of 'em left, or you could 'ave 'em…'

'It's not about the goblets either, although you're getting warmer,' said Harry. 'Shut up and listen.'

It felt wonderful to have something to do, someone of whom he could demand some small portion of truth. Harry's wand was now so close to the bridge of Mundungus's nose that Mundungus had gone cross-eyed trying to keep it in view.

'When you cleaned out this house of anything valuable,' Harry began, but Mundungus interrupted him again.

'Sirius never cared about any of the junk…'

There was the sound of pattering fee, a blaze of shining copper, an echoing clang, and a shriek of agony; Kreacher had taken a run at Mundungus and hit him over the head with a saucepan.

'Call 'im off, call 'im off, 'e should be locked up!' screamed Mundungus, cowering as Kreacher raised the heavy-bottomed pan again.

'Kreacher, no!' shouted Harry.

Kreacher's thin arms trembled with the weight of the pan, still held aloft.

'Perhaps just one more, Master Harry, for luck?'

Ron laughed.

'We need him conscious, Kreacher, but if he needs persuading, you can do the honors,' said Harry.

'Thank you very much, Master,' said Kreacher with a bow, and he retreated a short distance, his great pale eyes still fixed upon Mundungus with loathing.

'When you stripped this house of all the valuables you could find,' Harry began again, 'you took a bunch of stuff from the kitchen cupboard. There was a locket there.' Harry's mouth was suddenly dry: He could sense Ron,Kitty and Hermione's tension and excitement too. 'What did you do with it?'

'Why?' asked Mundungus. 'Is it valuable?'

'You've still got it!' cried Kitty.

'No, he hasn't,' said Ron shrewdly. 'He's wondering whether he should have asked more money for it.'

'More?' said Mundungus. 'That wouldn't have been effing difficult...bleedin' gave it away, di'n' I? No choice.'

'What do you mean?'

'I was selling in Diagon Alley and she come up to me and asks if I've got a license for trading in magical artifacts. Bleedin' snoop. She was gonna fine me, but she took a fancy to the locket an' told me she'd take it and let me off that time, and to fink meself lucky.'

'Who was this woman?' asked Harry.

'I dunno, some Ministry hag.'

Mundungus considered for a moment, brow wrinkled.

'Little woman. Bow on top of 'er head.'

He frowned and then added, 'Looked like a toad.'

Harry dropped his wand: It hit Mundungus on the nose and shot red sparks into his eyebrows, which ignited.

'Aquamenti!' screamed Hermione, and a jet of water streamed from her wand, engulfing a spluttering and choking Mundungus.

Harry looked up and saw his own shock reflected in Ron's, Kitty's and Hermione's faces. The scars on the back of his right hand seemed to be tingling again.

As August wore on, the square of unkempt grass in the middle of Grimmauld Place shriveled in the sun until it was brittle and brown. The inhabitants of number twelve were never seen by anyone in the surrounding houses, and nor was number twelve itself. The muggles who lived in Grimmauld Place had long since accepted the amusing mistake in the numbering that had caused number eleven to sit beside number thirteen.

And yet the square was now attracting a trickle of visitors who seemed to find the anomaly most intriguing. Barely a day passed without one or two people arriving in Grimmauld Place with no other purpose, or so it seemed, than to lean against the railings facing numbers eleven and thirteen, watching the join between the two houses.

On the first day of September there were more people lurking in the square than ever before. Half a dozen men in long cloaks stood silent and watchful, gazing as ever at houses eleven and thirteen, but the thing for which they were waiting still appeared elusive.

Harry had just apparated on the front step outside the front door. He pushed open the door, and pulle off the Invisibility Cloak.

'Shoes off, if you please, Master Harry, and hands washed before dinner,' croaked Kreacher, seizing the Invisibility Cloak and slouching off to hang it on a hook on the wall, beside a number of old-fashioned robes that had been freshly laundered.

'What happened?' said Kitty as Harry entered the kitchen.

He strode towards them and threw a newspaper on the top of the table.

A large picture of a familiar, hook-nosed, black-haired man stared up at them all, beneath a headline that read:

_SEVERUS SNAPE CONFIRMED AS HOGWARTS HEADMASTER_

'No!' said Kitty, Ron and Hermione loudly.

Hermione was quickest; she snatched up the newspaper and began to read the accompanying story out loud.

_'Severus Snape, long-standing Potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and wizardry, was today appointed headmaster in the most important of several staffing changes at the ancient school. Following the resignation of the previous Muggle Studies teacher, Alecto Carrow will take over the post while her brother, Amycus, fills the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.'_

'Wait a minute,' said Hermione, 'I'll be back!'

'They're Death Eaters, these Carrows,' said Harry, 'They were there the night Dumbledore died.'

Kreacher came bustling to the table with a large pan in his hands, and ladled out soup into pristine bowls, whistling between his teeth as he did so.

'Thanks, Kreacher,' said Harry, flipping over the Prophet so as not to have to look at Snape's face. 'Well, at least we know exactly where Snape is now.'

Kitty began to spoon soup into his mouth. The quality of Kreacher's cooking had improved dramatically ever since he had been given Regulus's locket: Today's French onion was as good as Kitty had ever tasted.

'There are still a load of Death Eaters watching this house,' said Harry as he ate, 'more than usual. It's like they're hoping we'll march out carrying our school trunks and head off for the Hogwarts Express.'

Hermione reentered the kitchen. She was carrying a large, framed picture, which she now lowered to the floor before seizing her small, beaded bag from the kitchen sideboard. Opening it, she proceeded to force the painting inside and despite the fact that it was patently too large to fit inside the tiny bag, within a few seconds it had vanished, like so much ease, into the bag's capacious depths.

'Phineas Nigellus,' Hermione explained as she threw the bag onto the kitchen table with the usual sonorous, clanking crash.

'Sorry?' said Ron, but Harry and Kitty understood. The painted image of Phineas Nigellus Black was able to travel between his portrait in Grimmauld Place and the one that hung in the headmaster's office at Hogwarts: the circular cower-top room where Snape was no doubt sitting right now, in triumphant possession of Dumbledore's collection of delicate, silver magical instruments, the stone Pensieve, the Sorting Hat and, unless it ad been moved elsewhere, the sword of Gryffindor.

'Snape could send Phineas Nigellus to look inside this house for him,' Hermione explained to Ron as she resumed her seat. 'But let him try it now, all Phineas Nigellus will be able to see is the inside of my handbag.'

'Good thinking!' said Ron, looking impressed.

'Thank you,' smiled Hermione, pulling her soup toward her. 'So, Harry, what else happened today?'

'Nothing,' said Harry. 'Watched the Ministry entrance for seven hours. No sign of her. Saw your dad though, Ron. He looks fine.'

Ron nodded his appreciation of this news.

'We're doing it tomorrow,' said Harry, 'We're entering the Ministry tomorrow. The three of us, Kat will stay here.'

'I agree,' said Kitty, 'You three go. Just be careful.'

_Please review!_


	14. Chapter 14

At the Ministry

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

'You know,' said Hermione the next morning, 'I reckon Kitty ought to come with us, even if she might have to stay under the Invisibility Cloak, the whole time, but think about it, if for some reason, we aren't able to come back here, then Kitty might not ever be able to know where we are.'

'Why won't we come back?' said Ron.

'Yeah, and I want Kat to be safe. What if…if we get caught at the Ministry?' said Harry.

'That's what I'm saying. If we get caught, Kitty will never come to know. And then someone might find her here, and god knows what will happen then,' said Hermione.

'Oh ok,' said Harry, 'But Kat, I want you to stay hidden under the cloak. Under no circumstances, are you to come out of it. If we get caught, then you will write to Remus in that diary, and ask him to come get you at once. And you're not to come after us.'

'Yeah, whatever,' said Kitty.

They made their way onto the front step with immense caution. They could see a couple of puffy-eyed Death Eaters watching the house from across the misty square.

Hermione Disapparated with Ron first, then came back for Harry and last of all for Kitty.

After the usual brief spell of darkness and near suffocation, Kitty found herself in the tiny alleyway where the first phase of their plan was scheduled to take place. It was as yet deserted, except for a couple of large bins; the first Ministry workers did not usually appear here until at least eight o'clock.

'Right then,' said Hermione, checking her watch. 'She ought to be here in about five minutes. When I've Stunned her…'

'Hermione, we know,' said Ron sternly. 'And I thought we were supposed to open the door before she got here?'

Hermione squealed.

'I nearly forgot! Stand back.'

She pointed her wand at the padlocked and heavily graffitied fire door beside them, which burst open with a crash. The dark corridor behind it led, as they knew from their careful scouting trips, into an empty theater. Hermione pulled the door back toward her, to make it look as thought it was still closed.

'And now,' she said, turning, back to face the other three in the alleyway, 'we wait.'

Little more than a minute later, there was a tiny pop and a little Ministry witch with flyaway gray hair Apparated feet from them, blinking a little in the sudden brightness: the sun had just come out from behind a cloud. She barely had time to enjoy the unexpected warmth, however, before Hermione's silent Stunning Spell hit her in the chest and she toppled over.

'Nicely done, Hermione,' said Ron, emerging behind a bin beside the theater. Harry and Ron together they carried the little witch into the dark passageway that led backstage. Hermione plucked a few hairs from the witch's head and added them to a flask of muddy Polyjuice Potion she had taken from the beaded bag. Ron was rummaging through the little witch's handbag.

'She's Mafalda Hopkirk,' he said, reading a small card that identified their victim as an assistant in the Improper Use of Magic Office. 'You'd better take this, Hermione, and here are the tokens.'

He passed her several small golden coins, all embossed with the letters M.O.M. which he had taken from the witch's purse.

Hermione drank the Polyjuice Potion, which was now a pleasant heliotrope color, and within seconds stood before them, the double of Mafalda Hopkirk. As she removed Mafalda's spectacles and put them on, Harry checked his watch.

'We're running late, Mr. Magical Maintenance will be here any second.'

They hurried to close the door on the real Mafalda. Harry and Ron got under the cloak with Kitty. Seconds later there was another pop, and a small, ferrety looking wizard appeared before them.

'Oh, hello, Mafalda.'

'Hello!' said Hermione in a quavery voice, 'How are you today?'

'Not so good, actually,' replied the little wizard, who looked thoroughly downcast.

As Hermione and the wizard headed for the main road, Harry, Kitty and Ron crept along behind them.

'I'm sorry to hear you're under the weather,' said Hermione, talking firmly over the little wizard and he tried to expound upon his problems; it was essential to stop him from reaching the street. 'Here, have a sweet.'

'Eh? Oh, no thanks…'

'I insist!' said Hermione aggressively, shaking the bag of pastilles in his face. Looking rather alarmed, the little wizard took one.

The effect was instantaneous. The moment the pastille touched his tongue, the little wizard started vomiting so hard that he did not even notice as Hermione yanked a handful of hairs from the top of his head.

'Oh dear!' she said, as he splattered the alley with sick. 'Perhaps you'd better take the day off!'

'No…no!' He choked and retched, trying to continue on his way despite being unable to walk straight. 'I must today…must go…'

'But that's just silly!' said Hermione, alarmed. 'You can't go to work in this state…I think you ought to go to St. Mungo's and get them to sort you out.'

The wizard had collapsed, heaving, onto all fours, still trying to crawl toward the main street.

'You simply can't go to work like this!' cried Hermione.

At last he seemed to accept the truth of her words. Using a reposed Hermione to claw his way back into a standing position, he turned on the spot and vanished, leaving nothing behind but the bag Ron had snatched from his hand as he went and some flying chunks of vomit.

'Urgh,' said Hermione, holding up the skirt of her robe to avoid the puddles of sick. 'It would have made much less mess to Stun him too.'

'Yeah,' said Ron, emerging from under the cloak holding the wizard's bag, 'but I still think a whole pile of unconscious bodies would have drawn more attention. Keen on his job, though, isn't he? Chuck us the hair and the potion, then.'

Within two minutes, Ron stood before them, as small and ferrety as the sick wizard, and wearing the navy blue robes that had been folded in his bag.

'Weird he wasn't wearing them today, wasn't it, seeing how much he wanted to go? Anyway, I'm Reg Cattermole, according to the label in the back.'

'Now wait here,' Hermione told Harry, who was still under the Invisibility Cloak, 'and we'll be back with some hairs for you.'

Harry and Kitty had to wait ten minutes, but it seemed much longer to Harry, skulking alone in the sick-splattered alleyway beside the door concealing the Stunned Mafalda. Finally Ron and Hermione reappeared.

'We don't know who he is,' Hermione said, passing Harry several curly black hairs, 'but he's gone home with a dreadful nosebleed! Here, he's pretty tall, you'll need bigger robes ...'

She pulled out a set of the old robes Kreacher had laundered for them, and Harry came out of the cloak and retired to take the potion and change.

Once the painful transformation was complete he was more than six feet tall and, from what he could tell from his well-muscled arms, powerfully built. He also had a beard.

'Now, Kat, stay hidden,' said Harry.

'Blimey, that's scary,' said Ron, looking up at Harry, who now towered over him.

'Take one of Mafalda's tokens,' Hermione told Harry, 'and let's go, it's nearly nine.'

They stepped out of the alleyway together. Fifty yards along the crowded pavement there were spiked black railings flanking two flights of stairs, one labeled GENTLEMEN, the other LADIES.

'See you in a moment, then,' said Hermione nervously, and she tottered off down the steps with Kitty to LADIES. Harry and Ron joined a number of oddly dressed men descending into what appeared to be an ordinary underground public toilet, tiled in grimy black and white.

Hermione crouched into a cubicle, and Kitty after her, under the cloak.

'You go first, and wait for me,' whispered Hermione.

'Hurry up!' said a raspy voice from outside.

'We have to flush ourselves in?' Kitty whispered.

'Looks like it,' Hermione whispered back.

They both stood up. Feeling exceptionally foolish, Kitty clambered into the toilet.

She knew at once that she had done the right thing; thought she appeared to be standing in water, her shoes, feet, and the Invisibility Cloak remained quite dry. She reached up, pulled the chain, and next moment had zoomed down a short chute, emerging out of a fireplace into the Ministry of Magic.

She got up clumsily and hurriedly got out of the fireplace, after making sure that the Cloak was covering her properly. The great Atrium seemed darker than Kitty remembered it. Kitty received a heavy blow on the back of her legs. Hermione had just flown out of the fireplace behind her.

'You're here, Kitty?' she said.

'Yes,' said Kitty, 'What now?'

'There's Ron and Harry,' said Hermione. Kitty looked where she was looking and saw the ferrety wizard and the tall man Ron and Harry had transformed into.

Hermione and Kitty hastened to join them.

'You got in all right, then?' Hermione whispered to Harry.

'No, he's still stuck in the hog,' said Ron.

'Kat?' whispered Harry.

'It's alright, Harry,' said Kitty, 'I'm here.'

'Come on, let's get going then,' said Ron.

They joined the stream of witches and wizards moving toward the golden gates at the end of the hall, looking around as surreptitiously as possible, but there was no sign of the distinctive figure of Dolores Umbridge. They passed through the gates and into a smaller hall, where queues were forming in front of twenty golden grilles housing as many lifts. They had barely joined the nearest one when a voice said, 'Cattermole!'

They looked around: Kitty's stomach turned over. One of the Death Eaters who had witnessed Dumbledore's death was striding toward them. The Ministry workers beside them fell silent, their eyes downcast; Kitty could feel fear rippling through them.

The man's scowling, slightly brutish face was somehow at odds with his magnificent, sweeping robes, which were embroidered with much gold thread. Someone in the crowd around the lifts called sycophantically, 'Morning, Yaxley!' Yaxley ignored them.

'I requested somebody from Magical Maintenance to sort out my office, Cattermole. It's still raining in there.'

Ron looked around as though hoping somebody else would intervene, but nobody spoke.

'Raining ... in your office? That's…that's not good, is it?'

Ron gave a nervous laugh. Yaxley's eyes widened.

'You think it's funny, Cattermole, do you?'

A pair of witches broke away from the queue for the lift and bustled off.

'No,' said Ron, 'no, of course…'

'You realize that I am on my way downstairs to interrogate your wife, Cattermole? In fact, I'm quite surprised you're not down there holding her hand while she waits. Already given her up as a bad job, have you? Probably wise. Be sure and marry a pureblood next time.'

Hermione had let out a little squeak of horror. Yaxley looked at her. She coughed feebly and turned away.

'I…I…' stammered Ron.

'But if my wife were accused of being a Mudblood,' said Yaxley, 'not that any woman I married would ever be mistaken for such filth, and the Head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement needed a job doing, I would make it my priority to do this job, Cattermole. Do you understand me?'

'Yes,' whispered Ron.

'Then attend to it, Cattermole, and if my office is not completely dry within an hour, your wife's Blood Status will be in even greater doubt than it is now.'

The golden grille before them clattered open. With a nod and unpleasant smile to Harry, who was evidently expected to appreciate this treatment of Cattermole, Yaxley swept away toward another lift. Harry, Kitty, Ron, and Hermione entered theirs, but nobody followed them: It was as if they were infectious. The grilles shut with a clang and the lift began to move upward.

'What am I going to do?' Ron asked the other three at once; he looked stricken. 'If I don't turn up, my wife ... I mean, Cattermole's wife…'

'We'll come with you, we should stick together…' began Harry, but Ron shook his head feverishly.

'That's mental, we haven't got much time. You three find Umbridge, I'll go and sort out Yaxley's office, but how do I stop a raining?'

'Try Finite Incantatem,' said Hermione at once, 'that should stop the rain if it's a hex or curse; if it doesn't something's gone wrong with an Atmospheric Charm, which will be more difficult to fix, so as an interim measure try Impervius to protect his belongings…'

'Kat, go with him,' said Harry suddenly, 'You're good at charms. Have you ever tried an Atmospheric Charm?'

' No, but I've read all about them,' said Kitty.

'Yes, you come with me,' said Ron feverishly.

At that moment the lift juddered to a halt. A disembodied female voice said, 'Level four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being, and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office, and Pest Advisory Bureau,' and the grilles slid open again, admitting a couple of wizards and several pale violet paper airplanes that fluttered around the lamp in the ceiling of the lift.

'Morning, Albert,'said a bushily whiskered man, smiling at Harry. He glanced over at Ron and Hermione as the lift creaked upward once more. The wizard leaned toward Harry, leering, and muttering 'Dirk Cresswell, eh? From Goblin Liaison? Nice one, Albert. I'm pretty confident I'll get his job now!'

He winked. Harry smiled back, hoping that this would suffice. The lift stopped; the grilles opened once more.

'Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services,' said the disembodied witch's voice.

Harry saw Hermione give Ron a little push and he hurried out of the lift, followed by Kitty and a few other wizards, leaving Harry and Hermione alone. The moment the golden door closed and the lift descended.

'Where's Yaxley's office, d'you think?' said Ron.

'I dunno, let's follow the others who came out of the lift,' said Kitty, still hidden in the cloak.

Ron and Kitty followed a large blond wizard, who took off for a corridor on towards the left. He disappeared into the first door on that corridor.

'This is it!' said Ron, pointing to the second door, on which hung a sign bearing Yaxley's name. 'Come on.'

Ron and Kitty hurried over to the door and threw it open. Great sheets of rain, was pouring relentlessly form the ceiling, battering the office, like a hail of bullets. Ron covered his head with his arms.

Kitty pointed to herself and said, 'Impervious!'

Then she did the same to Ron. Both of them entered the steady downpour.

'Now,' said Ron, 'What do you reckon?'

'Finite Incantatem!' said Kitty pointing her wand at the ceiling. Nothing happened.

'Oh no!' moaned Ron, 'try that impervious thing Hermione said.'

'Wait,' said Kitty, still pointing her wand at the ceiling, 'Meteojinx Recanto!'

Pink sparks flew out the tip of Kitty's wand, and the rain ceased at once.

'Come on, now,' said Kitty, 'let's go find Harry and Hermione.'

Ron and Kitty walked out of the office and back towards the lift. It was empty except for Harry.

'Did you manage it?' said Harry, once they got in.

'Yes,' said Ron, 'Kitty did something, I dunno. But it stopped raining.'

'Guess what,' said Harry, 'I managed to get into Umbridge's office.'

'You did? And did you find the locket?' said Kitty eagerly.

'No,' said Harry, 'it wasn't there.'

'And where's Hermione?' said Ron.

'She had to go to the Courtrooms with Umbridge. Couldn't refuse…' said Harry, but before he could finish, the doors opened again and Mr. Weasley walked in with an elderly witch.

Harry, Ron and Kitty got out.

'One moment, Runcorn,' said Mr. Weasley. 'I hear you had information about Dirk Cresswell.'

'Sorry?' Harry said.

'Don't pretend, Runcorn,' said Mr. Weasley fiercely. 'You tracked down the wizard who faked his family tree, didn't you?'

'I… so what if I did?' said Harry.

'So Dirk Cresswell is ten times the wizard you are,' said Mr. Weasley quietly.

'And if he survives Azkaban, you'll have to answer to him, not to mention his wife, his sons, and his friends…'

'Arthur,' Harry interrupted, 'you know you're being tracked, don't you?'

'Is that a threat, Runcorn?' said Mr. Weasley loudly.

'No,' said Harry, 'it's a fact! They're watching your every move…'

'You can do whatever you…'

'I am,' said Harry, 'Now excuse me, I have some business I must attend.'

Harry turned on his heel, and walked off, a little behind Ron and Kitty.


	15. Chapter 15

Escape!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

Harry and Ron got under the cloak with Kitty and the three of them crept down towards the Courtrooms. As they reached the foot of the stairs and turned to their right Kitty saw a dreadful scene. The dark passage outside the courtrooms was packed with tall, black-hooded figures, their faces completely hidden, their ragged breathing the only sound in the place. The petrified Muggle-borns brought in for questioning sat huddled and shivering on hard wooden benches. Most of them were hiding their faces in their hands, perhaps in an instinctive attempt to shield themselves from the dementors' greedy mouths. Some were accompanied by families, others sat alone. The dementors were gliding up and down in front of them, and the cold, and the hopelessness, and the despair of the place laid themselves upon Harry like a curse...

They moved forward as silently as they could, but moving through the towering black figures was terrifying: The eyeless faces hidden beneath their hoods turned as they passed, and Kitty felt sure that they sensed them, sensed, perhaps, human presence that still had some hope, some resilience...And then, abruptly and shockingly amid the frozen silence, one of the dungeon doors on the left of the corridor was flung open and screams echoed out of it.

'No, no, I'm half-blood, I'm half-blood, I tell you! My father was a wizard, he was, look him up, Arkie Alderton, he's a well known broomstick designer, look him up, I tell you…get your hands off me, get your hands off…'

'This is your final warning,' said Umbridge's soft voice, magically magnified so that it sounded clearly over the man's desperate screams. 'If you struggle, you will be subjected to the Dementor's Kiss.'

The man's screams subsided, but dry sobs echoed through the corridor.

'Take him away,' said Umbridge.

Two dementors appeared in the doorway of the courtroom, their rotting, scabbed hands clutching the upper arms of a wizard who appeared to be fainting. They glided away down the corridor with him, and the darkness they trailed behind them swallowed him from sight.

'Next…Mary Cattermole,' called Umbridge.

A small woman stood up; she was trembling from head to foot. Her dark hair was smoothed back into a bun and she wore long plain robes. Her face was completely bloodless. As she passed the dementors, Kitty saw her shudder.

As the door began to swing closed, they slipped into the courtroom behind her.

It was not the same room in which Harry had once been interrogated for improper use of magic. This one was much smaller, though the ceiling was quite as high it gave the claustrophobic sense of being stuck at the bottom of a deep well.

There were more dementors in here, casting their freezing aura over the place; they stood like faceless sentinels in the corners farthest from the high, raised platform. Here, behind a balustrade, sat Umbridge, with Yaxley on one side of her, and Hermione, quite as white-faced as Mrs. Cattermole, on the other. At the foot of the platform, a bight-silver, long-haired cat prowled up and down, up and down, and Harry realized that it was there to protect the prosecutors from the despair that emanated from the dementors: That was for the accused to feel, not the accusers.

'Sit down,' said Umbridge in her soft, silky voice.

Mrs. Cattermole stumbled to the single seat in the middle of the floor beneath the raised platform. The moment she had sat down, chains clinked out of the arms of the chair and bound her there.

'You are Mary Elizabeth Cattermole?' asked Umbridge.

Mrs. Cattermole gave a single, shaky nod.

'Married to Reginald Cattermole of the Magical Maintenance Department?'

Mrs. Cattermole burst into tears.

'I don't know where he is, he was supposed to meet me here!'

Umbridge ignored her.

'Mother to Maisie, Ellie and Alfred Cattermole?'

Mrs. Cattermole sobbed harder than ever.

'They're frightened, they think that I might not come home…'

"Spare us," spat Yaxley. "The brats of Mudbloods do not stir our sympathies."

Mrs. Cattermole's sobs masked their footsteps as they made their way carefully toward the steps that led up to the raised platform. Slowly and very carefully they edged his way along the platform behind Umbridge, Yaxley, and Hermione, taking a seat behind the latter. Umbridge raised her voice to address Mrs. Cattermole, and Harry seized his chance.

'We're behind you,' he whispered into Hermione's ear.

As he had expected, she jumped so violently she nearly overturned the bottle of ink with which she was supposed to be recording the interview, but both Umbridge and Yaxley were concentrating upon Mrs. Cattermole, and this went unnoticed.

'A wand was taken from you upon your arrival at the Ministry today, Mrs. Cattermole,' Umbridge was saying. 'Eight-and-three-quarter inches, cherry, unicorn-hair core. Do you recognize the description?'

Mrs. Cattermole nodded, mopping her eyes on her sleeve.

'Could you please tell us from which witch or wizard you took that wand?'

'T-took?' sobbed Mrs. Cattermole. 'I didn't t-take it from anybody. I b-bought it when I was eleven years old. It…it…it…chose me.'

She cried harder than ever.

Umbridge laughed a soft girlish laugh that made Harry want to attack her. She leaned forward over the barrier, the better to observe her victim, and something gold swung forward too, and dangled over the void: the locket.

Hermione had seen it; she let out a little squeak, but Umbridge and Yaxley, still intent upon their prey, were deaf to everything else.

'No,' said Umbridge, 'no, I don't think so, Mrs. Cattermole. Wands only choose witches or wizards. You are not a witch. I have your responses to the questionnaire that was sent to you here, Mafalda, pass them to me.'

Umbridge held out a small hand. Hermione fumbled in a pile of documents balanced on the chair beside her, finally withdrawing a sheaf of parchment with Mrs. Cattermole's name on it.

'That's pretty, Dolores,' she said, pointing at the pendant gleaming in the ruffled folds of Umbridge's blouse.

'What?' snapped Umbridge, glancing down. 'Oh yes, an old family heirloom,' she said, patting the locket lying on her large bosom. 'The S stands for Selwyn... I am related to the Selwyns... Indeed, there are few pure-blood families to whom I am not related. ...A pity,'she continued in a louder voice, flicking through Mrs. Cattermole's questionnaire, 'that the same cannot be said for you. 'Parents professions: greengrocers'.'

It was Umbridge's lie that brought the blood surging into Harry's brain and obliterated his sense of caution, that the locket she had taken as a bribe from a petty criminal was being used to bolster her own pure-blood credentials. He raised his wand, not even troubling to keep it concealed beneath the Invisibility Cloak, and said, 'Stupefy!'

There was a flash of red light; Umbridge crumpled and her forehead hit the edge of the balustrade: Mrs. Cattermole's papers slid off her lap onto the floor and, down below, the prowling silver cat vanished. Ice-cold air hit them like an oncoming wind: Yaxley, confused, looked around for the source of the trouble and saw Harry's disembodied hand and wand pointing at him. He tried to draw his own wand, but too late: 'Stupefy!'

Yaxley slid to the ground to lie curled on the floor.

'Harry!'

'Kat, if you think I was going to sit here and let her pretend…'

'Harry, Mrs. Cattermole!'

Harry whirled around, throwing off the Invisibility Cloak; down below, the Dementors had moved out of their corners; they were gliding toward the woman chained to the chair: Whether because the Patronus had vanished or because they sensed that their masters were no longer in control, they seemed to have abandoned restraint. Mrs. Cattermole let out a terrible scream of fear as a slimy, scabbed hand grasped her chin and forced her face back.

'EXPECTO PATRONUM!'

The silver stag soared from the tip of Harry's wand and leaped toward the Dementors, which fell back and melted into the dark shadows again. The stag's light, powerful and warming, filled the whole dungeon as it cantered around the room.

'Get the Horcrux,' Harry told Hermione.

Harry emerged from the cloak and ran back down the steps, and approached Mrs. Cattermole.

'You?' she whispered, gazing into his face. 'But…but Reg said you were the one who submitted my name for questioning!'

'Did I?' muttered Harry, tugging at the chains binding her arms, 'Well, I've had a change of heart. Diffindo!' Nothing happened. 'Hermione, how do I get rid of these chains?'

'Wait, I'm trying something up here…'

'Hermione, we're surrounded by dementors!'

'I know that, Harry, but if she wakes up and the locket's gone… I need to duplicate it…Geminio! There... That should fool her...'

'Relashio!' said Kitty, from under the cloak the chains clinked and withdrew into the arms of the chair. Mrs. Cattermole looked just as frightened as ever before.

'I don't understand,' she whispered.

'You're going to leave here with us,' said Harry, pulling her to her feet. 'Go home, grab your children, and get out, get out of the country if you've got to. Disguise yourselves and run. You've seen how it is, you won't get anything like a fair hearing here.'

'Harry,' said Hermione, 'how are we going to get out of here with all those dementors outside the door?'

'Patronuses,' said Harry, pointing his wand at his own. The stag slowed and walked, still gleaming brightly, toward the door. 'As many as we can muster; do yours, Hermione.'

'But, Harry,' said Kitty, 'I can't conjure Patronuses. I never mastered it, remember?'

'We'll protect you,' said Harry to Kitty. 'C'mon.'

'Expec … Expecto patronum,' said Hermione. A silver otter burst from the end of Hermione's wand and swam gracefully through the air to join the stag.

'Expecto Patronum!' sad Ron coming out from under the cloak and his Patronus joined Harry's and Hermione's.

'Reg!' screamed Mrs. Cattermole, and she threw herself into Ron's arms. 'Let's hurry home and fetch the children and…'

'Let's go,' said Ron, 'We can talk later.'

Harry and Ron led Hermione and Mrs. Cattermole to the door. Kitty followed, still hidden under the cloak.

When the Patronuses glided out of the dungeon there were cries of shock from the people waiting outside. Harry looked around; the Dementors were falling back on both sides of them, melding into the darkness, scattering before the silver creatures.

'It's been decided that you should all go home and go into hiding with your families,' Harry told the waiting Muggle-born, who were dazzled by the light of the Patronuses and still cowering slightly. 'Go abroad if you can. Just get well away from the Ministry. That's the…er …new official position. Now, if you'll just follow the Patronuses, you'll be able to leave the Atrium.'

They managed to get up the stone stops without being intercepted, but as they approached the lifts Harry started to have misgivings. If they emerged into the Atrium with a silver stag, and otter soaring alongside it, and twenty or so people, half of them accused Muggle-borns, he could not help feeling that they would attract unwanted attention. He had just reached this unwelcome conclusion when the lift clanged to a halt in front of them.

'Harry, if we're trapped here…' said Hermione, looking around at the advancing Dementors.

'We won't be if we move fast,' said Harry. He addressed the silent group behind them, who were all gawping at him.

'Who's got wands?'

About half of them raised their hands.

'Okay, all of you who haven't got wands need to attach yourself to somebody who has. We'll need to be fast before they stop us. Come on.'

They managed to cram themselves into two lifts. Harry's Patronus stood sentinel before the golden grilles as they shut and the lifts began to rise.

'Level eight,' said the witch's cool voice, 'Atrium.'

Kitty knew at once that they were in trouble. The Atrium was full of people moving from fireplace to fireplace, sealing them off.

'Harry!' squeaked Kitty. 'What are we going to…'

'STOP!' Harry thundered, and the powerful voice of Runcorn echoed through the Atrium: The wizards sealing the fireplaces froze. 'Follow me,' he whispered to the group of terrified Muggle-borns, who moved forward in a huddle, shepherded by Ron and Hermione.

'What's up, Albert?' said the same balding wizard who had followed Harry out of the fireplace earlier. He looked nervous.

'This lot need to leave before you seal the exits,' said Harry with all the authority he could muster.

The group of wizards in front of him looked at one another.

'We've been told to seal all exits and not let anyone…'

'Are you contradicting me?' Harry blustered. 'Would you like me to have your family tree examined, like I had Dirk Cresswell's?'

'Sorry!' gasped the balding wizard, backing away. 'I didn't mean nothing, Albert, but I thought... I thought they were in for questioning and...'

'Their blood is pure,' said Harry, and his deep voice echoed impressively through the hall. 'Purer than many of yours, I daresay. Off you go,' he boomed to the Muggle-borns, who scurried forward into the fireplaces and began to vanish in pairs. The Ministry wizards hung back, some looking confused, others scared and fearful. Then:

'Mary!'

Mrs. Cattermole looked over her shoulder. The real Reg Cattermole, no longer vomiting but pale and wan, had just come running out of a lift.

'R- Reg?'

She looked from her husband to Ron, who swore loudly.

The balding wizard gaped, his head turning ludicrously from one Reg Cattermole to the other.

'Hey, what's going on? What is this?'

'Seal the exit! SEAL IT!'

Yaxley had burst out of another lift and was running toward the group beside the fireplaces, into which all of the Muggle-borns but Mrs. Cattermole had now vanished. As the balding wizard lifted his wand, Harry raised an enormous fist and punched him, sending him flying through the air. The balding wizard's colleagues set up and uproar, under cover of which Ron grabbed Mrs. Cattermole, pulled her into the still-open fireplace, and disappeared. Confused, Yaxley looked from Harry to the punched wizard, while the real Reg Cattermole screamed, 'My wife! Who was that with my wife? What's going on?'

Kitty saw Yaxley's head turn, saw an inkling of truth dawn on that brutish face.

'Come on!' Harry shouted at Hermione; he seized her hand and they along with Kitty jumped into the fireplace together as Yaxley's curse sailed over Harry's head. They spun for a few seconds before shooting up out of a toilet into a cubicle. Harry flung open the door: Ron was standing there beside the sinks, still wrestling with Mrs. Cattermole.

'Reg, I don't understand…'

'Let go, I'm not your husband, you've got to go home!'

There was a noise in the cubicle behind them; Harry looked around; Yaxley had just appeared.

'LET'S GO!' Harry yelled. Kitty took off the cloak, and crumpled it up in her hand. Harry seized Hermione and Kitty by the hand and turned on the stop. Ron grabbed Harry's shoulder at the last minute as darkness engulfed them, along with the sensation of compressing hands.

And then Kitty saw the door to number twelve, Grimmauld Place, with its serpent door knocker, but before she could draw breath, there was a scream and a flash of purple light: Hermione's hand was suddenly vicelike upon hers and everything went dark again.

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	16. Chapter 16

Ron is Splinched

**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP.

Kitty opened her eyes, and was dazzled by gold and green. She was lying on what seemed to be leaves and twigs. She sat up, and looked around. Harry was looking as confused as her. A little distance away, Ron and Hermione lay on the forest floor.

Kitty got to her feet and rushed towards them. Harry followed her. The moment Kitty's eyes fell upon Ron, all other concerns fled her mind, for blood drenched the whole of Ron's left side and his face stood out, grayish-white, against the leaf-strewn earth. The Polyjuice Potion was wearing off now: Ron was halfway between Cattermole and himself in appearance, his hair turning redder and redder as his face drained of the little color it had left.

'What's happened to him?'

'Splinched,' said Hermione, her fingers already busy at Ron's sleeve, where the blood was wettest and darkest. 'Get me the dittany, Kitty.'

Kitty sped to the place where Hermione had landed, and pointed her wand at the small beaded bag.

'Accio Dittany!' she said, as a small bottle zoomed out and Kitty caught it. She hastened back to Hermione, Harry and Ron, whose eyes were now half-closed, strips of white eyeball all that were visible between his lids.

'He's fainted,' said Hermione, who was also rather pale; she no longer looked like Mafalda, though her hair was still gray in places. 'Unstopper it for me, Kitty, my hands are shaking.'

Kitty wrenched the stopper off the little bottle, Hermione took it and poured three drops of the potion onto the bleeding wound. Greenish smoke billowed upward and when it had cleared, Kitty saw that the bleeding had stopped. The wound now looked several days old; new skin stretched over what had just been open flesh.

'Wow,' said Harry.

'It's all I feel safe doing,' said Hermione shakily. 'There are spells that would put him completely right, but I daren't try in case I do them wrong and cause more damage... He's lost so much blood already...'

'How did he get hurt? I mean,' Harry shook his head, trying to clear it, to make sense of whatever had just taken place, 'why are we here? I thought we were going back to Grimmauld Place?'

Hermione took a deep breath. She looked close to tears.

'Harry, I don't think we're going to be able to go back there.'

'What d'you…'

'As we Disapparated, Yaxley caught hold of me and I couldn't get rid of him, he was too strong, and he was still holding on when we arrived at Grimmauld Place, and then well, I think he must have seen the door, and thought we were stopping there, so he slackened his grip and I managed to sake him off and I brought us here instead!'

'But then, where's he? Hang on... You don't mean he's at Grimmauld Place? He can't get in there?'

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she nodded.

'Harry, I think he can. I…I forced him to let go with a Revulsion Jinx, but I'd already taken him inside the Fidelius Charm's protection. Since Dumbledore died, we're Secret-Keepers, so I've given him the secret, haven't I?'

There was no pretending; Kitty was sure she was right. It was a serious blow. If Yaxley could now get inside the house, there was no way that they could return. Even now, he could be bringing other Death Eaters in there by Apparition.

'Harry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!'

'Don't be stupid, it wasn't your fault! If anything, it was mine…Thank goodness we didn't leave Kat there.'

Before Hermione could answer, Ron groaned and opened his eyes. He was still gray and his face glistened with sweat.

'How d'you feel?' Hermione whispered.

'Lousy,' croaked Ron, wincing as he felt his injured arm. 'Where are we?'

'They are the woods I often used to come camping in with Mum and Dad,' said Hermione. 'I wanted somewhere enclosed, undercover, and this was…'

'…the first place you thought of,' Kitty finished for her, glancing around at the apparently deserted glade.

'D'you reckon we should move on?' Ron asked Harry.

'I dunno.'

Ron still looked pale and clammy. He had made no attempt to sit up and it looked as though he was too weak to do so. The prospect of moving him was daunting.

'Let's stay here for now,' Harry said.

Looking relieved, Hermione sprang to her feet.

'Where are you going?' asked Ron.

'If we're staying, we should put some protective enchantments around the place. Kitty, come on, help me,' she replied, and raising her wand, she began to walk in a wide circle around Harry and Ron, murmuring incantations as she went. Kitty followed her.

'Protego Horribilis!' muttered Kitty, waving her wand. 'Repello Inimicum! Salvio hexia! Fianto Duri! Muffliato!'

Harry saw little disturbances in the surrounding air: It was as if Hermione and Kitty had cast a heat haze upon their clearing.

'Get out the tent, Harry,' said Hermione.

'Tent?'

'In the bag!'

'In the... of course,' said Harry.

Harry used another Summoning Charm and the tent emerged in a lumpy mass of canvas, ropes, and poles.

'Erecto!' Hermione said, pointing her wand at the misshapen canvas, which in one fluid motion rose into the air and settled, fully constructed, onto the ground before Harry, out of whose startled hands a tent peg soared, to land with a final thud at the end of a guy rope.

'Repello Muggletum!' Hermione finished with a skyward flourish. 'That's as much as I can do. At the very least, we should know they're coming; I can't guarantee it will keep out Vol…'

'Don't say the name!' Ron cut across her, his voice harsh.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other.

'I'm sorry,' Ron said, moaning a little as he raised himself to look at them, 'but it feels like a…a jinx or something. Can't we call him You-Know-Who …please?'

'Dumbledore said fear of a name…' began Harry.

'In case you hadn't noticed, mate, calling You-Know-Who by his name didn't do Dumbledore much good in the end,' Ron snapped back. 'Just…just show You-Know-Who some respect, will you?'

'Respect?' Kitty repeated, but Hermione shot her a warning look; apparently she was not to argue with Ron while the latter was in such a weakened condition.

Harry and Hermione half carried, half dragged Ron through the entrance of the tent. He shoved aside an old armchair and lowered Ron carefully onto the lower berth of a bunk bed. Even this very short journey had turned Ron whiter still, and once they had settled him on the mattress he closed his eyes again and did not speak for a while.

'I'll make some tea,' said Hermione breathlessly, pulling kettle and mugs from the depths of her bag and heading toward the kitchen.

Harry found the hot drink as welcome as the firewhisky had been on the night that Mad-Eye had died; it seemed to burn away a little of the fear fluttering in his chest. After a minute or two, Ron broke the silence.

'What d'you reckon happened to the Cattermoles?'

'With any luck, they'll have got away,' said Kitty, clutching her hot mug for comfort. 'As long as Mr. Cattermole had his wits about him, he'll have transported Mrs. Cattermole by Side-Along-Apparition and they'll be fleeing the country right now with their children. That's what Harry told her to do.'

'Blimey, I hope they escaped,' said Ron, leaning back on his pillows. The tea seemed to be doing him good; a little of his color had returned. 'I didn't get the feeling Reg Cattermole was all that quick-witted, though, the way everyone was talking to me when I was him. God, I hope they made it... If they both end up in Azkaban because of us...'

Kitty looked over at Hermione and the question she had been about to ask about whether Mrs. Cattermole's lack of a wand would prevent her Apparating alongside her husband died in her throat. Hermione was watching Ron fret over the fate of the Cattermoles, and there was such tenderness in her expression that Kitty felt that it would be tactless to speak at the moment.

'So, have you got it?' Harry asked her, partly to remind her that they were there.

'Got …got what?' she said with a little start.

'What did we just go through all that for? The locket! Where's the locket?'

'You got it?' shouted Ron, raising himself a little higher on his pillows. 'No one tells me anything! Blimey, you could have mentioned it!'

'Well, we were running for our lives from the Death Eaters, weren't we?' said Hermione. 'Here.'

And she pulled the locket out of the pocket of her robes and handed it to Ron.

It was as large as a chicken's egg. An ornate letter S, inlaid with many small green stones, glinted dully in the diffused light shining through the tent's canvas roof.

'There isn't any chance someone's destroyed it since Kreacher had it?' asked Ron hopefully. 'I mean, are we sure it's still a Horcrux?'

'I think so,' said Hermione, taking it back from him and looking at it closely. 'There'd be some sign of damage if it had been magically destroyed.'

She passed it to Kitty, who turned it over in her fingers. The thing looked perfect, pristine. She passed it to Harry.

'I reckon Kreacher's right,' said Harry. 'We're going to have to work out how to open this thing before we can destroy it.'

Sudden awareness of what he was holding, of what lived behind the little golden doors, hit Harry as he spoke. Even after all their efforts to find it, he felt a violent urge to fling the locket from him. Mastering himself again, he tried to pry the locket apart with his fingers, then attempted the Alohomora charm. Neither worked. He handed the locket back to Kitty, Ron and Hermione, each of whom did their best, but were no more successful at opening it than he had been.

'Portaberto!' said Kitty, pointing her wand at the locket, but it did not open. She passed it back to Ron.

'Can you feel it, though?' Ron asked in a hushed voice, as he held it tight in his clenched fist.

'What d'you mean?'

Ron passed the Horcrux to Harry. After a moment or two, Harry thought he knew what Ron meant. Was it his own blood pulsing through his veins that he could feel, or was it something beating inside the locket, like a tiny metal heart?

'What are we going to do with it?' Kitty asked.

'Keep it safe till we work out how to destroy it,' Harry replied, and, little though he wanted to, he hung the chain around his own neck, dropping the locket out of sight beneath his robes, where it rested against his chest beside the pouch Hagrid had given him.

'I think we should take it in turns to keep watch outside the tent,' he added to Hermione, standing up and stretching. 'And we'll need to think about some food as well. You stay there,' he added sharply, as Ron attempted to sit up and turned a nasty shade of green.

With the Sneakoscope Hermione had given Harry for his birthday set carefully upon the table in the tent, Harry, Kitty and Hermione spent the rest of the day sharing the role of lookout. However, the Sneakoscope remained silent and still upon its point all day, and whether because of the protective enchantments and Muggle-repelling charms Hermione and Kitty had spread around them, or because people rarely ventured this way, their patch of wood remained deserted, apart from occasional birds and squirrels.

As evening passed, Kitty was starting to feel hungry, and a little light-headed. They had not packed any food in Hermione's magical bag, as she had assumed that they would be returning to Grimmauld Place that night, so they had had nothing to eat except some wild mushrooms that Hermione and Kitty had collected from amongst the nearest trees and stewed in a Billycan. After a couple of mouthfuls Ron had pushed his portion away, looking queasy; Harry had only persevered so as to not hurt Hermione's and Kitty's feelings.

The surrounding silence was broken by odd rustlings and what sounded like crackings of twigs: Kitty thought that they were caused by animals rather than people, yet he kept his wand held tight at the ready. His insides, already uncomfortable due to their inadequate helping of rubbery mushrooms, tingled with unease.

'Do you reckon you should summon Kreacher?' said Kitty to Harry.

'No,' said Hermione, 'I shouldn't be surprised if someone from the Ministry or one of the Death Eaters is keeping watch on him. What if they apparate here with him too?'

'Harry, what's the matter?' said Kitty looking at her brother, who was clutching his scar.

'I just…just saw him,' said Harry, 'He's got Gregorovitch with him and he wants something from him. Gregorovitch says that it was stolen from him, you know whatever he wants, and he doesn't know who the thief is. He's torturing Gregorovitch.'

'But who the hell is Gregorovitch?' said Kitty.

'He's a wandmaker,' said Harry, 'I know because he made Krum's wand. In our fourth year, when we went for the weighing of wands before the Triwizard Tournament, Krum told me. But what does he want from Gregorovitch?'

'Er…a wand, I suppose,' said Kitty.

'Harry, you should not be seeing this,' said Hermione sternly. 'You're obviously exhausted. Go and lie down.'

Harry angrily strode over to his bed and lay down.

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	17. Chapter 17

A Talk With Draco

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Kitty sneaked away from the tent, and came to a large clearing in the forest. She looked around warily to see if Harry, Ron and Hermione out of sight, and then, took out her two way mirror.

'Vandyll,' she spoke into it.

Immediately Vandyll's face appeared into it, staring back at her.

'Kitty!' he said, 'Where are you? I see trees, it's not the Forbidden Forest, is it?'

'No, Van,' said Kitty, 'Um, Vandyll, I'll talk to you in sometime. Could you…could you give Draco your mirror, if he's around?'

'Sure,' said Vandyll, 'Just a second.'

A few seconds later, Malfoy's face appeared into it, looking anxious.

'Kitty, what's the matter? Why didn't you come back to school? I've been so worried that they'd caught you,' said Malfoy.

'Draco, I'm fine,' said Kitty, 'Look, I hope you aren't somewhere where we can be heard.'

'No, I'm alone, here,' said Malfoy.

'Okay, good,' said Kitty.

'So…so, how are you, Kitten?' said Malfoy, 'I miss you a lot, you know.'

'I miss you too, Draco,' said Kitty, 'I'm fine, I'm with Harry. But what about you? Harry…Harry told me the Dark Lord made you torture Rowle.'

'How does Potter know?' said Malfoy stiffly.

'I—I dunno, I…I didn't ask him,' said Kitty. 'And Draco, what's happening up at the school? I heard Snape's become the Headmaster.'

'Yeah, he has. And Hogwarts has completely changed. They punish first years by using the Cruciatus Curse. DADA has turned into Dark Arts. It's horrible,' said Malfoy.

'That's sick,' said Kitty.

'Look, all that's okay,' said Malfoy, 'but where are you? How come you never came back?'

'Well,' said Kitty, 'we had stuff to do. I'm sorry; I can't tell you what, Dumbledore's orders.'

'Fine,' said Malfoy, 'Just be safe, okay?'

'Yes,' said Kitty, 'But what about you, Draco? Now that Dumbledore's dead, whom are you reporting to?'

'No one,' said Malfoy abruptly, 'I'm reporting to no one. As of now, I'm stuck with the Dark Lord.'

'But, Draco,' said Kitty horrified, 'why can't you join the Order?'

'I can't,' said Malfoy flatly, 'you think they'd ever believe me: a Slytherin, and a Death Eater's son? They'd think that the Dark Lord has asked me to spy for him. Also, if I ever join the Order, and the Dark Lord comes to know, you realize what he'd do to me?'

Kitty gulped. 'Alright, Draco. I understand that the Order won't believe you, but Remus believes you. I told him that you were a spy for Dumbledore. You can report to him.'

'Okay, lets say we find a way to communicate with him,' said Malfoy, 'Still, there really isn't anything to report. Everyone knows what's going on. The Dark Lord's operating openly now.'

'Isn't there any news which you could give us?' said Kitty, 'You can tell me, I can tell Remus.'

'Yeah, there is,' said Malfoy, 'Professor Burbage, you know her right?'

'Yeah,' said Kitty, 'She used to teach me Muggle Studies. What happened to her?'

'She was murdered by the Dark Lord. It was in the papers that she resigned. But the truth is that the Dark Lord captured her and killed her,' said Malfoy.

'Oh my god!' said Kitty. 'Why'd he do that?'

'Just for laughs,' said Malfoy. Kitty felt disgusted.

'Listen, Kitty,' said Malfoy, 'I have to go now okay? My Potions class begins in five minutes.'

'Okay,' said Kitty, 'We'll talk later. Bye, Draco.'

'Love you, kitten,' said Malfoy.

'Love you too, Draco,' said Kitty, stowing the mirror carefully back in the jeans pocket.

She made her way back towards the tent.

'Where've you been, Kat?' said Harry.

'What…nowhere. I—I went to pee,' said Kitty.

'Okay,' said Harry, 'Listen you know what happened? I tried to make a Patronus, and it wouldn't come.'

'How come?' said Kitty.

Harry shrugged.

'So we still haven't got any food,' grumbled Ron.

'Shut up, Ron,' snapped Hermione. 'Harry, what happened? Why do you think you couldn't make your Patronus? You managed perfectly yesterday!'

'I don't know.'

He sat low in one of Perkins's old armchairs, feeling more humiliated by the moment. He was afraid that something had gone wrong inside him. Ron kicked a chair leg.

'What?' he snarled at Hermione. 'I'm starving! All I've had since I bled half to death is a couple of toadstools!'

'You go and fight your way through the dementors, then,' said Harry, stung.

'I would, but my arm's in a sling, in case you hadn't noticed!'

'That's convenient.'

'And what's that supposed to…'

'Of course!' cried Hermione, clapping a hand to her forehead and startling both of them into silence. 'Harry, give me the locket! Come on,' she said impatiently, clicking her fingers at him when he did not react, 'the Horcrux, Harry, you're still wearing it!'

She held out her hands, and Harry lifted the golden chain over his head. The moment it parted contact with Harry's skin he felt oddly light. He had not even realized that he was clammy or that there was a heavy weight pressing on his stomach until both sensations lifted.

'Better?' asked Hermione.

'Yeah, loads better!'

'Harry,' she said, crouching down in front of him and using the kind of voice he associated with visiting the very sick, 'you don't think you've been possessed, do you?'

'What? No!' he said defensively, 'I remember everything we've done while I've bee wearing it. I wouldn't know what I'd done if I'd been possessed, would I? Ginny told me there were times when she couldn't remember anything.'

'Hmm,' said Hermione, looking down at the heavy locket. 'Well, maybe we ought not to wear it. We can just keep it in the tent.'

'We are not leaving that Horcrux lying around,' Harry stated firmly. 'If we lose it, if it gets stolen…'

'Oh, all right, all right,' said Hermione, and she placed it around her own neck and tucked it out of sight down the front of her shirt. 'But we'll take turns wearing it, so nobody keeps it on too long.'

'Great,' said Ron irritably, 'and now we've sorted that out; can we please get some food?'

'Fine, but we'll go somewhere else to find it,' said Hermione with half a glance at Harry. 'There's no point staying where we know Dementors are swooping around.'

In the end they settled down for the night in a far flung field belonging to a lonely farm, from which they had managed to obtain eggs and bread.

'It's not stealing, is it?' asked Hermione in a troubled voice, as they devoured scrambled eggs on toast. 'Not if I left some money under the chicken coop?'

Ron rolled his eyes and said, with his cheeks bulging, 'Er-my-nee, 'oo worry 'oo much. 'Elax!'

And, indeed, it was much easier to relax when they were comfortably well fed. The argument about the Dementors was forgotten in laughter that was their first encounter with the fact that a full stomach meant good spirits, an empty one, bickering and gloom. Kitty was least surprised by this, because Harry and she had suffered periods of near starvation at the Dursleys'. Hermione bore up reasonably well on those nights when they managed to scavenge nothing but berries or stale biscuits, her temper perhaps a little shorter than usual and her silences dour. Ron, however, had always been used to three delicious meals a day, courtesy of his mother or of the Hogwarts house-elves, and hunger made him both unreasonable and irascible. Whenever lack of food coincided with Ron's turn to wear the Horcrux, he became downright unpleasant.

'So where next?' was his constant refrain. He did not seem to have any ideas himself, but expected Harry, Kitty and Hermione to come up with plans while he sat and brooded over the low food supplies. Accordingly Harry, Kitty and Hermione spent fruitless hours trying to decide where they might find the other Horcruxes, and how to destroy the one they already got, their conversations becoming increasingly repetitive as they got no new information.

As Dumbledore had told Harry that he believed Voldemort had hidden the Horcruxes in places important to him, they kept reciting, in a sort of dreary litany, those locations they knew that Voldemort had lived or visited. The orphanage where he had been born and raised: Hogwarts, where he had been educated; Borgin and Burks, where he had worked after completing school; then Albania, where he had spent his years of exile: These formed the basis of their speculations.

'Yeah, let's go to Albania. Shouldn't take more than an afternoon to search an entire country,' said Ron sarcastically.

'There can't be anything there. He'd already made five of his Horcruxes before he went into exile, and Dumbledore was certain the snake is the sixth,' said Kitty. 'We know the snake's not in Albania, it's usually with Vol…'

'Didn't I ask you to stop say the name?'

'Fine! The snake is usually with You-Know-Who…happy?'

'Not particularly.'

'I can't see him hiding anything at Borgin and Burkes.' said Harry, who had made this point many times before, but said it again simply to break the nasty silence. 'Borgin and Burke were experts at Dark objects, they would've recognized a Horcrux straightaway.'

Ron yawned pointedly. Repressing a strong urge to throw something at him, Kitty said, 'I reckon he might have hidden something at Hogwarts.'

Hermione sighed.

'But Dumbledore would have found it, Kitty!'

Harry repeated the argument he kept bringing out in favor of this theory.

'Dumbledore said in front of me that he never assumed he knew all of Hogwart's secrets. I'm telling you, if there was one place Vol…'

'Oi!'

'YOU-KNOW-WHO, then!' Harry shouted, goaded past endurance. 'If there was one place that was really important to You-Know-Who, it was Hogwarts!'

'Oh, come on,' scoffed Ron. 'His school?'

'Yeah, his school! It was his first real home, the place that meant he was special: it meant everything to him, and even after he left…'

'This is You-Know-Who we're talking about, right? Not you?' inquired Ron. He was tugging at the chain of the Horcrux around his neck; Harry was visited by a desire to seize it and throttle him.

'Ron,' said Kitty, 'Take off the locket, and give it to me. I'll wear it.'

'But you wore it for six hours today already,' said Harry, as Ron flung the locket at Kitty.

'Really, it doesn't matter,' sighed Kitty.

'You told us that You-Know-Who asked Dumbledore to give him a job after he left,' said Hermione.

'That's right,' said Harry.

'And Dumbledore thought he only wanted to come back to try and find something, probably another founder's object, to make into another Horcrux?'

'Yeah,' said Harry.

'But he didn't get the job, did he?' said Hermione. 'So he never got the chance to find a founder's object there and hide it in the school!'

'Okay, then,' said Harry, defeated. 'Forget Hogwarts.'

'I'm sleepy,' said Ron.

'You can go sleep then,' snapped Hermione.

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	18. Chapter 18

The Goblin's Revenge

**Disclaimer:** I'm not Rowling.

A few days later, they travelled to London, hidden under the Invisibility Cloak, to search for the orphanage in which Voldemort had been raised. Hermione stole into a library and discovered from their records that the place had been demolished many years before. They visited its site and found a tower block of offices.

'We could try digging in to foundations?' Hermione suggested halfheartedly.

'He wouldn't have hidden a Horcrux here,' Harry said. 'The orphanage had been the place he had been determined to escape; he would never have hidden a part of his soul there.'

Even without any new idea, they continued to move through the countryside, pitching the tent in a different place each night for security. Every morning they made sure that they had removed all clues to their presence, then set off to find another lonely and secluded spot, traveling by Apparition to more woods, to the shadowy crevices of cliffs, to purple moors, gorse-covered mountainsides, and once a sheltered and pebbly cove. Every six hours or so they passed the Horcrux between them as though they were playing some perverse, slow-motion game of pass-the-parcel, where they dreaded the music stopping because the reward was six hours of increased fear and anxiety.

Harry's scar kept prickling. It happened most often, he noticed, when he was wearing the Horcrux. Sometimes he could not stop himself reacting to the pain.

'What? What did you see?' demanded Kitty, whenever she noticed Harry wince.

'A face,' muttered Harry, every time. 'Gregorovitch.'

Every time Harry's scar hurt, Kitty would firmly take the locket away from him and wear it herself, until Harry's six hours were up. As a result, Kitty wore the Horcrux more than anyone else. Harry had stopped telling her whenever his scar would hurt, but somehow she always seemed to know when he was lying to her.

As Harry's scar continued to burn and the Gregorovitch's face swam tantalizingly in his memory, he learned to suppress any sign of pain or discomfort, for the Ron and Hermione showed nothing but impatience at its mention. He could not entirely blame them, when they were so desperate for a lead on the Horcruxes.

As the days stretched into weeks, Harry began to suspect that Ron and Hermione were having conversations without, and about, him. Several times they stopped talking abruptly when either Harry or Kitty entered the tent, and twice Harry came accidentally upon them, huddled a little distance away, heads together and talking fast; both times they fell silent when they realized he was approaching them and hastened to appear busy collecting wood or water.

Harry could not help wondering whether they had only agreed to come on what now felt like a pointless and rambling journey because they thought he had some secret plan that they would learn in due course. Ron was making no effort to hide his bad mood, and Harry was starting to fear that Hermione too was disappointed by his poor leadership. Kitty would always sense whenever Harry felt upset, and did her best to calm him down and comfort him. She started wearing the Horcrux for almost the whole day, so that Ron and Hermione would not be in a rotten mood all day. In desperation Harry tried to think of further Horcrux locations, but the only one that continued to occur to him was Hogwarts, and as neither Ron nor Hermione thought this at all likely, he stopped suggesting it, except to Kitty.

Autumn rolled over the countryside as they moved through it. They were now pitching the tent on mulches of fallen leaves. Natural mists joined those cast by the Dementors; wind and rain added to their troubles. The fact that Hermione was getting better at identifying edible fungi could not altogether compensate for their continuing isolation, the lack of other people's company, or their total ignorance of what was going on in the war against Voldemort.

'My mother,' said Ron one night, as they sat in the tent on a riverbank in Wales, 'can make good food appear out of thin air.'

He prodded moodily at the lumps of charred gray fish on his plate. Kitty automatically glanced at Ron's neck and saw, as she had expected, the golden chain of the Horcrux glinting there. She held out her hand for the locket at once. Harry managed to fight down the impulse to swear at Ron, whose attitude would, he knew, improve slightly when Kitty would wear the locket.

'Your mother can't produce food out of thin air,' said Hermione. 'No one can. Food is the first of the five Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration…'

'Oh, speak English, can't you?' Ron said, prying a fish out from between his teeth.

'It's impossible to make good food out of nothing! You can Summon it if you know where it is, you can transform it, you can increase the quantity if you've already got some…'

'Well, don't bother increasing this, it's disgusting,' said Ron.

'Harry caught the fish and Kitty and I did my best with it! I notice Kitty and I are always the ones who end up sorting out the food, because we're girls, I suppose!'

'No, it's because you both are supposed to be the best at charms!' shot back Ron.

Hermione jumped up and bits of roast pike slid off her tin plate onto the floor.

'Hermione, its okay. Ron doesn't mean to…' began Kitty.

'You can eat that!' said Ron flinging his plate with the remnants of fish on the floor. 'I don't want to!'

'Ron, calm down…' said Kitty.

'You can do the cooking tomorrow, Ron, you can find the ingredients and try and charm them into something worth eating, and I'll sit here and pull faces and moan and you can see…'said Hermione angrily.

'Shut up!' said Harry, leaping to his feet and holding up both hands. 'Shut up now!'

Hermione looked outraged.

'How can you side with him, he hardly ever does the cook…'

'Hermione, be quiet, I can hear someone!'

He was listening hard, his hands still raised, warning them not to talk. Then, over the rush and gush of the dark river beside them, he heard voices again. He looked around at the Sneakoscope. It was not moving.

'You cast the Muffliato charm over us, right?' he whispered to Kitty.

'I did everything,' she whispered back, 'Muffliato, Muggle-Repelling and Disillusionment Charms, all of it. They shouldn't be able to hear of see us, whoever they are.'

Heavy scuffing and scraping noises, plus the sound of dislodged stones and twigs, told them that several people were clambering down the steep, wooded slope that descended to the narrow bank where they had pitched the tent. They drew their wands, waiting. The enchantments Hermione and Kitty had cast around themselves ought to be sufficient, in the near total darkness, to shield them from the notice of Muggles and normal witches and wizards. If these were Death Eaters, then perhaps their defenses were about to be tested by Dark Magic for the first time.

The voices became louder but no more intelligible as the group of men reached the bank. Harry estimated that their owners were fewer than twenty feet away, but the cascading river made it impossible to tell for sure. Hermione snatched up the beaded bag and started to rummage; after a moment she drew out three Extendible Ears and threw one each to Harry, Kitty and Ron, who hastily inserted the ends of the flesh-colored strings into their ears and fed the other ends out of the tent entrance.

Within seconds Kitty heard a weary male voice.

'There ought to be a few salmon in here, or d'you reckon it's too early in the season? Accio Salmon!'

There were several distinct splashes and then the slapping sounds of fish against flesh. Somebody grunted appreciatively. Kitty pressed the Extendable ear deeper into her own: Over the murmur of the river she could make out more voices, but they were not speaking English or any human language she had ever heard. It was a rough and unmelodious tongue, a string of rattling, guttural noises, and there seemed to be two speakers, one with a slightly lower, slower voice than the other.

A fire danced into life on the other side of the canvas, large shadows passed between tent and flames. The delicious smell of baking salmon wafted tantalizingly in their direction. Then came the clinking of cutlery on plates, and the first man spoke again.

'Here, Griphook, Gornuk.'

'Goblins!' Kitty mouthed at Harry, who nodded.

'Thank you,' said the goblins together in English.

'So, you three have been on the run how long?' asked a new, mellow, and pleasant voice; it was vaguely familiar to Harry, who pictured a round-bellied, cheerful-faced man.

'Six weeks... Seven... I forget,' said the tired man. 'Met up with Griphook in the first couple of days and joined forces with Gornuk not long after. Nice to have a bit of company.' There was a pause, while knives scraped plates and tin mugs were picked up and replaced on the ground. 'What made you leave, Ted?' continued the man.

'Knew they were coming for me,' replied mellow-voiced Ted, and Harry suddenly knew who he was: Tonks's father. 'Heard Death Eaters were in the area last week and decided I'd better run for it. Refused to register as a Muggle-born on principle, see, so I knew it was a matter of time, knew I'd have to leave in the end. My wife should be okay, she's pure-blood. And then I met Dean here, what, a few days ago, son?'

'Yeah,' said another voice, and Harry, Kitty, Ron, and Hermione stared at each other, silent but beside themselves with excitement, sure they recognized the voice of Dean Thomas, their fellow Hogwarts student.

'Muggle-born, eh?' asked the first man.

'Not sure,' said Dean. 'My dad left my mum when I was a kid. I've got no proof he was a wizard, though.'

There was silence for a while, except for the sounds of munching; then Ted spoke again.

'I've got to say, Dirk, I'm surprised to run into you. Pleased, but surprised. Word was that you'd been caught.'

'I was,' said Dirk. 'I was halfway to Azkaban when I made a break for it. Stunned Dawlish, and nicked his broom. It was easier than you'd think; I don't reckon he's quite right at the moment. Might be Confunded. If so, I'd like to shake the hand of the witch or wizard who did it, probably saved my life.'

There was another pause in which the fire crackled and the river rushed on. The Ted said, 'And where do you two fit in? I, er, had the impression the goblins were for You-Know-Who, on the whole.'

'You had a false impression,' said the higher-voiced of the goblins. 'We take no sides. This is a wizards' war.'

'How come you're in hiding, then?'

'I deemed it prudent,' said the deeper-voiced goblin. 'Having refused what I considered an impertinent request, I could see that my personal safety was in jeopardy.'

'What did they ask you to do?' asked Ted.

'Duties ill-befitting the dignity of my race,' replied the goblin, his voice rougher and less human as he said it. 'I am not a house-elf.'

'What about you, Griphook?'

'Similar reasons,' said the higher voiced goblin. 'Gringotts is no longer under the sole control of my race. I recognize no Wizarding master.'

He added something under his breath in Gobbledegook, and Gornuk laughed.

'What's the joke?' asked Dean.

'He said,' replied Dirk, 'that there are things wizards don't recognize, either.'

There was a short pause.

'I don't get it,' said Dean.

'I had my small revenge before I left,' said Griphook in English.

'Good man…goblin, I should say,' amended Ted hastily. 'Didn't manage to lock a Death Eater up in one of the old high-security vaults, I suppose?'

'If I had, the sword would not have helped him break out,' replied Griphook. Gornuk laughed again and even Dirk gave a dry chuckle.

'Dean and I are still missing something here,' said Ted.

'So is Severus Snape, though he does not know it,' said Griphook, and the two goblins roared with malicious laughter. Inside the tent Kitty's breathing was shallow with excitement: she and Harry stared at each other, listening as hard as they could.

'Didn't you hear about that, Ted?' asked Dirk. 'About the kids who tried to steal Gryffindor's sword out of Snape's office at Hogwarts?'

An electric current seemed to course through Harry, jangling his every nerve as he stood rooted to the spot.

'Never heard a word,' said Ted, 'Not in the Prophet, was it?'

'Hardly,' chortled Dirk. 'Griphook here told me, he heard about it from Bill Weasley who works for the bank. One of the kids who tried to take the sword was Bill's younger sister.'

Harry glanced toward Kitty, Hermione and Ron, all of whom were clutching the Extendable Ears as tightly as lifelines.

'She and a couple of friends got into Snape's office and smashed open the glass case where he was apparently keeping the sword. Snape caught them as they were trying to smuggle it down the staircase.'

'Ah, God bless 'em,' said Ted. 'What did they think, that they'd be able to use the sword on You-Know-Who? Or on Snape himself?'

'Well, whatever they thought they were going to do with it, Snape decided the sword wasn't safe where it was,' said Dirk. 'Couple of days later, once he'd got the say-so from You-Know-Who, I imagine, he sent it down to London to be kept in Gringotts instead.'

The goblins started to laugh again.

'I'm still not seeing the joke,' said Ted.

'It's a fake,' rasped Griphook.

'The sword of Gryffindor!'

'Oh yes. It is a copy…an excellent copy, it is true…but it was Wizard-made. The original was forged centuries ago by goblins and had certain properties only goblin-made armor possesses. Wherever the genuine sword of Gryffindor is, it is not in a vault at Gringotts bank.'

'I see,' said Ted. 'And I take it you didn't bother telling the Death Eaters this.'

'I saw no reason to trouble them with the information,' said Griphook smugly, and now Ted and Dean joined in Gornuk and Dirk's laughter.

Inside the tent, Harry closed his eyes, willing someone to ask the question he needed answered, and after a minute, Dean obliged: he was (Harry remembered with a jolt) an ex-boyfriend of Ginny's too.

'What happened to Ginny and all the others? The ones who tried to steal it?'

'Oh, they were punished, and cruelly,' said Griphook indifferently.

'They're okay, though?' asked Ted quickly, 'I mean, the Weasleys don't need any more of their kids injured, do they?'

'They suffered no serious injury, as far as I am aware,' said Griphook.

'Lucky for them,' said Ted. 'With Snape's track record I suppose we should just be glad they're still alive.'

'You believe that story, then, do you, Ted?' asked Dirk. 'You believe Snape killed Dumbledore?'

'Course I do,' said Ted. 'You're not going to sit there and tell me you think that either of the Potters had anything to do with it?'

'Hard to know what to believe these days,' muttered Dirk.

'I know Harry Potter,' said Dean. 'And I reckon he's the real thing…the Chosen One, or whatever you want to call it.'

'Yeah, there's a lot would like to believe he's that, son,' said Dirk, 'I included. But where is he? Run for it, by the looks of things. You'd think if he knew anything we don't, or had anything special going for him, he'd be out there now fighting, rallying resistance, instead of hiding. And you know, the Prophet made a pretty good case against him…'

'The Prophet?' scoffed Ted. 'You deserve to be lied to if you're still reading that muck, Dirk. You want the facts, try the Quibbler.'

There was a sudden explosion of choking and retching, plus a good deal of thumping, by the sound of it. Dirk had swallowed a fish bone. At last he sputtered, 'The Quibbler? That lunatic rag of Xeno Lovegood's?'

'It's not so lunatic these days,' said Ted. 'You want to give it a look, Xeno is printing all the stuff the Prophet's ignoring, not a single mention of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks in the last issue. How long they'll let him get with it, mind, I don't know. But Xeno says, front page of every issue, that any wizard who's against You-Know-Who ought to make helping Harry Potter their number-one priority.'

'Hard to help a boy, who's vanished off the face of the earth,' said Dirk.

'Listen, the fact that they haven't caught him yet's one hell of an achievement,' said Ted. 'I'd take tips from him gladly; it's what we're trying to do, stay free, isn't it?'

'Yeah, well, you've got a point there,' said Dirk heavily. 'With the whole of the Ministry and all their informers looking for him, I'd have expected him to be caught by now. Mind, who's to say they haven't already caught and killed him without publicizing it?'

'Ah, don't say that, Dirk,' murmured Ted.

There was a long pause filled with more clattering of knives and forks. When they spoke again it was to discuss whether they ought to sleep on the back or retreat back up the wooded slope. Deciding the trees would give better cover, they extinguished their fire, then clambered back up the incline, their voices fading away.

Harry, Kitty, Ron, and Hermione reeled in the Extendable Ears. Harry, who had found the need to remain silent increasingly difficult the longer they eavesdropped, now found himself unable to say more then, 'Ginny…the sword…'

'She tried to steal it,' said Kitty excitedly, 'I bet you anything she got Neville, Luna, Dennis and Vandyll together, and tried to steal it so that she could give it to you.'

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	19. Chapter 19

Ron's Rage

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

Hermione lunged for the tiny beaded bag, this time sinking her arm in it right up to the armpit.

'Here... we... are...' she said between gritted teeth, and she pulled at something that was evidently in the depths of the bag. Slowly the edge of an ornate picture frame came into sight. Kitty hurried to help her. As they lifted the empty portrait of Phineas Nigellus free of Hermione's bag, she kept her wand pointing at it, ready to cast a spell at any moment.

'If somebody swapped the real sword for the fake while it was in Dumbledore's office,' she panted, as they propped the painting against the side of the tent, 'Phineas Nigellus would have seen it happen, he hangs right beside the case!'

'Unless he was asleep,' said Harry, but he still held his breath as Hermione knelt down in front of the empty canvas, her wand directed at its center, cleared her throat, then said:

'Er…Phineas? Phineas Nigellus?'

Nothing happened.

'Phineas Nigellus?' said Hermione again. 'Professor Black? Please could we talk to you? Please?'

'Please always helps,' said a cold, snide voice, and Phineas Nigellus slid into his portrait. At once, Hermione cried:

'Obscura!'

A black blindfold appeared over Phineas Nigellus's clever, dark eyes, causing him to bump into the frame and shriek with pain.

'What-how dare -what are you…?'

'I'm very sorry, Professor Black,' said Hermione, 'but it's a necessary precaution!'

'Remove this foul addition at once! Remove it, I say! You are ruining a great work of art! Where am I? What is going on?'

'Never mind where we are,' said Harry, and Phineas Nigellus froze, abandoning his attempts to peel off the painted blindfold.

'Can that possible be the voice of the elusive Mr. Potter?'

'Maybe,' said Harry, knowing that this would keep Phineas Nigellus's interest. 'We've got a couple of questions to ask you about the sword of Gryffindor.'

'Ah,' said Phineas Nigellus, now turning his head this way and that in an effort to catch sight of Harry, 'Yes. That silly girl acted most unwisely there…'

'Shut up about my sister,' said Ron roughly, Phineas Nigellus raised supercilious eyebrows.

'Who else is here?' he asked, turning his head from side to side. 'Your tone displeases me! The girl and her friends were foolhardy in the extreme. Thieving from the headmaster.'

'They weren't thieving,' said Harry. 'That sword isn't Snape's.'

'It belongs to Professor Snape's school,' said Phineas Nigellus. 'Exactly what claim did the Weasley girl have upon it? She deserved her punishment, as did the idiot Longbottom, the Slytherin Zinpike and the Lovegood oddity!'

'Neville is not an idiot and Luna is not an oddity!' said Kitty.

'Where am I?' repeated Phineas Nigellus, starting to wrestle with the blindfold again. 'Where have you brought me? Why have you removed me from the house of my forebears?'

''Never mind that! How did Snape punish Ginny, Neville, Vandyll and Luna?' asked Harry urgently.

'Professor Snape sent them into the Forbidden Forest, to do some work for the oaf, Hagrid.'

'Hagrid's not an oaf!' said Kitty shrilly.

'And Snape might've though that was a punishment,' said Harry, 'but Ginny, Neville, Vandyll and Luna probably had a good laugh with Hagrid. The Forbidden Forest... they've faced plenty worse than the Forbidden Forest, big deal!'

Kitty felt relieved; she had been imagining horrors, the Cruciatus Curse at the very least.

'What we really wanted to know, Professor Black, is whether anyone else has, um, taken out the sword at all? Maybe it's been taken away for cleaning… or something!' said Hermione.

Phineas Nigellus paused again in his struggles to free his eyes and sniggered.

'Muggle-born,' he said, 'Goblin-made armor does not require cleaning, simple girl. Goblin's silver repels mundane dirt, imbibing only that which strengthens it.'

'Don't call Hermione simple,' said Harry.

'I grow weary of contradiction,' said Phineas Nigellus. 'perhaps it is time for me to return to the headmaster's office?'

Still blindfolded, he began groping the side of his frame, trying to feel his way out of his picture and back into the one at Hogwarts. Harry had a sudden inspiration.

'Dumbledore! Can't you bring us Dumbledore?'

'I beg your pardon?' asked Phineas Nigellus.

'Professor Dumbledore's portrait…couldn't you bring him along, here, into yours?'

Phineas Nigellus turned his face in the direction of Harry's voice.

'Evidently it is not only Muggle-borns who are ignorant, Potter. The portraits of Hogwarts may commune with each other, but they cannot travel outside of the castle except to visit a painting of themselves elsewhere. Dumbledore cannot come here with me, and after the treatment I have received at your hands, I can assure you that I will not be making a return visit!'

Slightly crestfallen, Kitty watched Phineas redouble his attempts to leave his frame.

'Professor Black,' said Hermione, 'couldn't you just tell us, please, when was the last time the sword was taken out of its case? Before Ginny took it out, I mean?'

Phineas snorted impatiently.

'I believe that the last time I saw the sword of Gryffindor leave its case was when Professor Dumbledore used it to break open a ring.'

Kitty whipped around to look at Harry. Neither of them dared say more in front of Phineas Nigellus, who had at least managed to locate the exit.

'Well, good night to you,' he said a little waspishly, and he began to move out of sight again. Only the edge of his hat brim remained in view when Harry gave a sudden shout.

'Wait! Have you told Snape you saw this?'

Phineas Nigellus stuck his blindfolded head back into the picture.

'Professor Snape has more important things on his mind that the many eccentricities of Albus Dumbledore. Good-bye, Potter!'

And with that, he vanished completely, leaving behind him nothing but his murky backdrop.

'Harry!' Kitty cried.

'I know!' Harry shouted. Unable to contain himself, he punched the air; it was more than he had dared to hope for. He strode up and down the tent, feeling that he could have run a mile; he did not even feel hungry anymore. Hermione was squashing Phineas Nigellus's back into the beaded bag; when she had fastened the clasp she threw the bag aside and raised a shining face to Harry.

'The sword can destroy Horcruxes! Goblin-made blades imbibe only that which strengthens them, Harry, that sword's impregnated with basilisk venom!' said Kitty.

'And Dumbledore didn't give it to me because he still needed it; he wanted to use it on the locket…'

'… and he must have realized they wouldn't let you have it if he put it in his will…'

'… so he made a copy…'

'… and put a fake in the glass case…'

'… and he left the real one…where?'

They gazed at east other Harry felt that the answer was dangling invisibly in the air above them, tantalizingly close. Why hadn't Dumbledore told him? Or had he, in fact, told Harry, but Harry had not realized it at the time?

'Think!' whispered Hermione. 'Think! Where would he have left it?'

'Not at Hogwarts,' said Harry, resuming his pacing.

'Somewhere in Hogsmeade?' suggested Kitty.

'The Shrieking Shack?' said Harry. 'Nobody ever goes in there.'

'But Snape knows how to get in, wouldn't that be a bit risky?'

'Dumbledore trusted Snape,' Harry reminded her.

'Not enough to tell him that he had swapped the swords,' said Kitty.

'Yeah, you're right!' said Harry, and he felt even more cheered at the thought that Dumbledore had had some reservations, however faint, about Snape's trustworthiness. 'So, would he have hidden the sword well away from Hogsmeade, then? What d'you reckon, Ron? Ron?'

Harry looked around. For one bewildered moment he thought that Ron had left the tent, then realized that Ron was lying in the shadow of a bunk, looking stony.

'Oh, remembered me, have you?' he said.

'What?'

Ron snorted as he stared up at the underside of the upper bunk.

'You three carry on. Don't let me spoil your fun.'

Perplexed, Harry looked to Kitty for help, but she shook her head, apparently as nonplussed as he was.

'I don't understand it; you're not even wearing the locket; I am,' said Kitty.

'WILL YOU SHUT UP ABOUT THE DAMN LOCKET!' shouted Ron.

'Stop shouting at her! She contributes the most amongst all of us! Who stopped the rain that day in Yaxley's office? Who cooks your food? Who does all the protective enchantments? Who wears the Horcrux when it's your turn? 'yelled Harry, 'I just can't see what your problem is!'

'Problem? There is no problem,' said Ron, still refusing to look at Harry. 'Not according to you or Kitty, anyway.'

There were several plunks on the canvas over their heads. It had started to rain.

'Well, you've obviously got a problem,' said Harry. 'Spit it out, will you?'

Ron swung his long legs off the bed and sat up. He looked mean, unlike himself.

'All right, I'll spit it out. Don't expect me to skip up and down the tent because there's some other damn thing we've got to find. Just add it to the list of stuff you don't know.'

'I don't know?' repeated Harry. 'I don't know?'

Plunk, plunk, plunk. The rain was falling harder and heavier; it pattered on the leaf-strewn bank all around them and into the river chattering through the dark. Dread doused Kitty's jubilation; Ron was saying exactly what she had suspected and feared him to be thinking.

'It's not like I'm not having the time of my life here,' said Ron, 'you know, with my arm mangled and nothing to eat and freezing my backside off every night. I just hoped, you know, after we'd been running round a few weeks, we'd have achieved something.'

'Ron,' Hermione said, but in such a quiet voice that Ron could pretend not to have heard it over the loud tattoo the rain was beating on the tent.

'I thought you knew what you'd signed up for,' said Harry.

'Yeah, I thought I did too.'

'Ron, I think you're just feeling a bit tired,' said Kitty, 'Why don't you just have a nap?'

'Yeah, so you three can have a good laugh at me once I'm out of your way?' said Ron.

'Ron, why are you saying that? We never laugh…' said Kitty.

'What part of it isn't living up to your expectations?' asked Harry angrily. 'Did you think we'd be staying in five-star hotels? Finding a Horcrux every other day? Did you think you'd be back to Mummy by Christmas?'

'We thought you knew what you were doing!' shouted Ron, standing up. 'We thought Dumbledore had told you what to do, we thought you had a real plan!'

'Ron!' said Hermione, this time clearly audible over the rain thundering on the tent roof, but again, he ignored her.

'Well, sorry to let you down,' said Harry, his voice quite calm even though he felt hollow, inadequate. 'I've been straight with you from the start. I told you everything Dumbledore told me. And in the case you haven't noticed, we've found one Horcrux…'

'Yeah, and we're about as near to getting rid of it as we are to finding the rest of them...'

'Ron, please calm down,' said Kitty close to tears now, 'Please, just go lie down or something…'

'D'you think I haven't noticed you and Hermione whispering behind my back? D'you think I didn't guess you were thinking this stuff?' yelled Harry.

'Harry, we weren't…' began Hermione.

'Don't lie!' Ron hurled at her. 'You said it too, you said you were disappointed, you said you'd thought he had a bit more to go on than…'

'I didn't say it like that Harry, I didn't!' she cried.

'So why are you still here?' Harry asked Ron. 'Why'd you both come with me and Kat? I haven't heard her complaining once. Go home if you can't stand it.'

'Yeah, maybe I will! As for your sister, you haven't heard her complain because you're all she has. Why would she complain when her only family is in front of her eyes all the time?' shouted Ron, and he took several steps toward Harry, who did not back away. 'Didn't you hear what they said about my sister? But you don't give a rat's fart, do you, it's only the Forbidden Forest, Harry I've-Faced-Worse Potter doesn't care what happened to her in there well, I do, all right, giant spiders, and giants and mental stuff…'

'I was only saying…she was with the others, they were with Hagrid…'

'Yeah, I get it, you don't care! And what about the rest of my family, 'the Weasleys don't need another kid injured,' did you hear that?'

'Yeah, I…'

'Not bothered what it meant, though?'

'Ron!' said Kitty, forcing her way between them. 'I don't think it means anything new has happened, anything we don't know about; think, Ron, Bill's already scarred, plenty of people must have seen that George has lost an ear by now, and you're supposed to be on your deathbed with spattergroit, I'm sure that's all he meant …'

'Oh, you're sure, are you? Right then, well, I won't bother myself about them. It's all right for you, isn't it, with your parents safely out of the way…'

'Our parents are dead!' Harry bellowed.

'And mine could be going the same way!' yelled Ron.

'Then GO!' roared Harry. 'Go back to them, pretend you're got over your spattergroit and Mummy'll be able to feed you up and…'

Ron made a sudden movement: Harry reacted, but before either wand was clear of its owner's pocket, Hermione had raised her own.

'Protego!' she cried, and an invisible shield expanded between her, Kitty and Harry on the one side and Ron on the other; all of them were forced backward a few steps by the strength of the spell, and Harry and Ron glared from either side of the transparent barrier as though they were seeing each other clearly for the first time. Harry felt a corrosive hatred toward Ron: Something had broken between them.

Ron turned to Hermione.

'What are you doing?'

'What do you mean?'

'Are you staying, or what?'

'I...' She looked anguished. 'Yes… yes, I'm staying. Ron, we said we'd go with Harry, we said we'd help…'

'Hermione, you don't have to stay, just because you said you would,' said Kitty, 'You can go with Ron, Harry'll still have me.'

'No!' said Hermione, 'I want to stay!'

'I get it,' said Ron, 'You choose him.'

'Ron, no…please…come back, come back!' cried Hermione.

She was impeded by her own Shield Charm; by the time she had removed it he had already stormed into the night. Harry stood quite still and silent, listening to her sobbing and calling Ron's name amongst the trees. Harry looked at Kitty, who also had tears running down her cheeks. Without saying a word, he hugged her like he'd never let her go.

Kitty felt faint. She sat down on a chair, and held her head in her hands.

'What's the matter Kat?' said Harry.

'I don't know,' said Kitty weakly, 'I'm getting a terrible headache. Could you…could you please just wear the locket for some time?'

Harry took off the Horcrux that she was wearing, and placed it round his own neck. After a few minutes Hermione returned, her sopping hair plastered to her face.

'He's g-g-gone! Disapparated!'

She threw herself into a chair, curled up, and started to cry.

Harry climbed onto his own bed and stared up at the dark canvas roof, listening to the pounding of the rain and wondering how on earth he would deal with two crying girls.

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	20. Chapter 20

Godric's Hollow

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

Kitty awoke early next morning. She hoped childishly that it was all a dream, yet when she clambered out of her bunk, she saw Ron's empty bunk, and Hermione's pillow, still wet from her tears.

When Harry and Hermione woke up, they packed their things, Hermione dawdling. Kitty knew why she wanted to spin out their time on the riverbank; several times she saw her look up eagerly, and she was sure she had deluded herself into thinking that she heard footsteps through the heavy rain, but no red-haired figure appeared between the trees.

Finally having entirely repacked the beaded bag three times, Hermione seemed unable to find any more reasons to delay: She, Kitty and Harry grasped hands and Disapparated, reappearing on a windswept heather-covered hillside. The instant they arrived, Hermione dropped Harry's hand and walked away from them, finally sitting down on a large rock, her face on her knees, shaking with what they knew were sobs. They watched her, supposing that they ought to go and comfort her, but something kept them rooted to the spot.

Harry and Kitty strode off through the heather, walking in a large circle, casting the protective enchantments. They did not discuss Ron at all over the next few days. Harry was determined never to mention his name again and Hermione seemed to know that it was no use forcing the issue, although sometimes at night when she thought he was sleeping, he would hear her crying.

Meanwhile Harry and Kitty had started bringing out the Marauder's map and examining it by wandlight. They was waiting for the moment when Ron's labeled dot would reappear in the corridors of Hogwarts, proving that he had returned to the comfortable castle, protected by his status of pureblood. However, Ron did not appear on the map and after a while Harry found himself taking it out simply to stare at Ginny's name in the girl's dormitory while Kitty stared at Draco's black dot, each of them sitting together for hours on an end, saying not a word to each other.

By day, they devoted themselves to trying to determine the possible locations of Gryffindor's sword, but the more they talked about the places in which Dumbledore might have hidden it, the more desperate and far-fetched their speculation became. Cudgel his brains though he might, Harry could not remember Dumbledore ever mentioning a place in which he might hide something.

Harry could not hide it from himself: Ron had been right. Dumbledore had left him with virtually nothing. They had discovered one Horcrux, but they had no means of destroying it: The others were as unattainable as they had ever been. Hopelessness threatened to engulf him. He was staggered now to think of his own presumption in accepting his friends' offers to accompany him on this meandering, pointless journey. He knew nothing, he had no ideas, and he was constantly, painfully on the alert for any indications that Hermione too was about to tell him that she had had enough. That she was leaving.

Kitty spent about an hour every three or four days talking to Draco. He had told them that Snape seemed to be facing a constant, low level of mutiny from a hard core of students. Ginny, Luna and Vandyll had been banned from going into Hogsmeade. Snape had reinstated Umbridge's old decree forbidding gatherings of three or more students or any unofficial student societies. From all of these things, Kitty deduced that Ginny, and probably Neville, Vandyll and Luna along with her, had been doing their best to continue Dumbledore's Army. This scant news made Harry want to see Ginny so badly it felt like a stomachache; but it also made him think of Ron again, and of Dumbledore, and of Hogwarts itself, which he missed nearly as much as his ex-girlfriend.

'Give me the Horcrux,' said Harry holding out his hand for it.

'Really, its okay,' said Kitty, 'I have no problem wearing it. And you scar hurts whenever you…'

'Give it!' said Harry firmly.

Kitty disentangled the locket's chain from the bezoar necklace she was wearing and handed it to Harry who put it round his neck.

'Um, Hermione?' said Kitty.

'Kitty could you help me with something? Harry, you come here too,' said Hermione.

She leaned forward and held out The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

'Look at that symbol,' she said, pointing to the top of a page. Above what Kitty assumed was the title of the story (being unable to read runes, she could not be sure), there was a picture of what looked like a triangular eye, its pupil crossed with a vertical line.

'I never took Ancient Runes, Hermione,' said Harry.

'I know that; but it isn't a rune and it's not in the syllabary, either. All along I thought it was a picture of an eye, but I don't think it is! It's been inked in, look, somebody's drawn it there, it…isn't really part of the book. Think, have you ever seen it before?'

'No... No, wait a moment.' Kitty looked closer. 'Isn't it the same symbol Luna's dad was wearing round his neck?'

'Well, that's what I thought too!' said Harry.

'Then it's Grindelwald's mark,' said Kitty.

Hermione and Harry stared at her, openmouthed.

'What?'

'Krum told me...'

She recounted the story that Viktor Krum had told him at the wedding. Hermione looked astonished.

'Grindelwald's mark?'

She looked from Kitty to Harry to the weird symbol and back again. 'I've never heard that Grindelwald had a mark. There's no mention of it in anything I've ever read about him.'

'Well, like I say, Krum reckoned that symbol was carved on a wall at Durmstrang, and Grindelwald put it there,' said Kitty.

Hermione fell back into the old armchair, frowning.

'That's very odd. If it's a symbol of Dark Magic, what's it doing in a book of children's stories?'

'Yeah, it is weird,' said Harry. 'And you'd think Scrimgeour would have recognized it. He was Minister, he ought to have been expert on Dark stuff.'

'I know... Perhaps he thought it was an eye, just like I did. All the other stories have little pictures over the titles.'

She did not speak, but continued to pore over the strange mark.

'Hermione?'

'Hmm?'

'I've been thinking. Er…Kat and I want to go to Godric's Hollow.'

She looked up at them, but her eyes were unfocused, and Kitty was sure she was still thinking about the mysterious mark on the book.

'Yes,' she said. 'Yes, I've been wondering that too. I really think we'll have to.'

'Did you hear me right?' Harry asked.

'Of course I did. You want to go to Godric's Hollow. I agree. I think we should. I mean, I can't think of anywhere else it could be either. It'll be dangerous, but the more I think about it, the more likely it seems it's there.'

'Er…what's there?' asked Kitty.

At that, she looked just as bewildered as they felt.

'Well, the sword! Dumbledore must have known you'd want to go back there, and I mean Godric's Hollow is Godric Gryffindor's birthplace …'

'Really? Gryffindor came from Godric's Hollow?'

'Did none of you ever even open A History of Magic?'

'Erm,' Harry said, smiling for what felt like the first time in months: The muscles in his face felt oddly stiff. 'I might've opened it, you know, when I bought it... just the once...'

'Well, as the village is named after him I'd have thought you might have made the connection,' said Hermione. She sounded much more like her old self than she had done of late; Kitty half expected her to announce that she was off to the library. 'There's a bit about the village in A History of Magic, wait...'

She opened the beaded bag and rummaged for a while, finally extracting her copy of their old school textbook, A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot, which she thumbed through until finding the page she wanted.

_'Upon the signature of the International Statute of Secrecy in 1689, wizards went into hiding for good. It was natural, perhaps, that they formed their own small communities within a community. Many small villages and hamlets attracted several magical families, who banded together for mutual support and protection. The villages of Tinworsh in Cornwall, Upper Flagley in Yorkshire, and Ottery St. Catchpole on the south coast of England were notable homes to knots of Wizarding families who lived alongside tolerant and sometimes Confunded Muggles. Most celebrated of these half-magical dwelling places is, perhaps, Godric's Hollow, the West Country village where the great wizard Godric Gryffindor was born, and where Bowman Wright, Wizarding smith, forged the first Golden Snitch. The graveyard is full of the names of ancient magical families, and this accounts, no doubt, for the stories of hauntings that have dogged the little church beside it for many centuries.'_

'You and your parents aren't mentioned,' Hermione said, closing the book, 'because Professor Bagshot doesn't cover anything later than the end of the nineteenth century. But you see? Godric's Hollow, Godric Gryffindor, Gryffindor's sword; don't you think Dumbledore would have expected you to make the connection?'

'Oh yeah...'

Harry did not want to admit that he had not been thinking about the sword at all when he suggested they go to Godric's Hollow. For him, the lore of the village lay in his parents' graves, the house where he had narrowly escaped death, and in the person of Bathilda Bagshot.

'Remember what Muriel said?' he asked eventually.

'Who?'

'You know,' he hesitated. He did not want to say Ron's name. 'Ginny's great-aunt. At the wedding. The one who said you had skinny ankles.'

'Oh,' said Hermione. It was a sticky moment: Harry knew that she had sensed Ron's name in the offing. He rushed on:

'She said Bathilda Bagshot still lived in Godric's Hollow.'

'Bathilda Bagshot,' murmured Hermione, running her index finger over Bathilda's embossed name on the front cover of A History of Magic. 'Well, I suppose…'

'Harry!' exclaimed Kitty loudly, causing him to jump and draw his wand. 'Oh! I didn't mean to scare you, I've only just remembered.'

'What?' he said, half angry, half relieved. 'What did you do that for? I thought you'd seen a Death Eater unzipping the tent, at least…'

'Harry, do you remember the letter, Mum's letter back in Sirius's house?' said Kitty, 'Mum wrote that Bathilda Bagshot had loads of stories to tell about Dumbledore. Maybe she was his friend. Harry, what if Bathilda's got the sword? What if Dumbledore entrusted it to her?'

Harry considered this possibility. Bathilda would be an extremely old woman by it likely that Dumbledore would have hidden the sword of Gryffindor with her?

'Yeah, he might have done! So, are we going to go to Godric's Hollow?'

'Yes, but we'll have to think it through carefully, Harry,' said Hermione. She was sitting up now, and Kitty could tell that the prospect of having a plan again had lifted her mood as much as hers. 'We'll need to practice Disapparating together under the Invisibility Cloak for a start, and perhaps Disillusionment Charms would be sensible too, unless you think we should go the whole hog and use Polyjuice Potion? In that case we'll need to collect hair from somebody. I actually think we'd better do that, Harry, the thicker our disguises the better...'

Harry let her talk, nodding and agreeing whenever there was a pause, but his mind had left the conversation. For the first time since he had discovered that the sword in Gringotts was a fake, he felt excited.

He was about to go home, about to return to the place where he had had a family. It was in Godric's Hollow that, but for Voldemort, he would have grown up and spent every school holiday. He could have invited friends to his house... It would have been his mother who had made his seventeenth birthday cake. Kitty was just as excited about going to Godric's Hollow.

Harry and Kitty would gladly have set out for Godric's Hollow the following day, but Hermione had other ideas. Convinced as she was that Voldemort would expect Harry to return to the scene of his parents' deaths, she was determined that they would set off only after they had ensured that they had the best disguises possible. It was therefore a full week later, once they had surreptitiously obtained hairs from innocent Muggles who were Christmas shopping, and had practiced Apparating and Disapparating while underneath the Invisibility Cloak together, that Hermione agreed to make the journey.

They were to Apparate to the village under cover of darkness, so it was late afternoon when they finally swallowed Polyjuice Potion, Harry transforming into a balding, middle-aged Muggle man, Hermione into his small and rather mousy wife, and Kitty, into their sixteen year old daughter. The beaded bag containing all of their possessions (apart from the Horcrux, which Kitty was wearing around her neck) was tucked into an inside pocket of Hermione's buttoned-up coat. Harry lowered the Invisibility Cloak over them, and then they turned into the suffocating darkness once again.

Heart beating in his throat, Kitty opened his eyes. They were standing hand in hand in a snowy lane under a dark blue sky, in which the night's first stars were already glimmering feebly. Cottages stood on either side of the narrow road, Christmas decorations twinkling in their windows. A short way ahead of them, a glow of golden streetlights indicated the center of the village.

'All this snow!' Hermione whispered beneath the cloak. 'Why didn't we think of snow? After all our precautions, we'll leave prints! We'll just have to get rid of them…you both go in front, I'll do it.'

'Let's take off the Cloak,' said Harry, and when Kitty looked frightened, he said, 'Oh, come on, we don't look like us and there's no one around.'

He stowed the Cloak under his jacket and they made their way forward unhampered, the icy air stinging their faces as they passed more cottages. Any one of them might have been the one in which James and Lily had once lived or where Bathilda lived now. Kitty gazed at the front doors, their snow-burdened roofs, and their front porches, wondering whether she remembered any of them, knowing deep inside that it was impossible, that she had been just a few weeks old when she had left this place forever.

'Harry, I think it's Christmas Eve!' said Hermione.

'Is it?'

Kitty had lost track of the date; they had not seen a newspaper for weeks.

'I'm sure it is,"' said Hermione, her eyes upon the church. 'They... they'll be in there, won't they? Your mum and dad? I can see the graveyard behind it.'

Kitty felt a thrill of something that was beyond excitement, more like fear. Now that she was so near, she wondered whether she wanted to see after all. Perhaps Hermione knew how they were feeling, because she reached for Harry's hand and took the lead for the first time, pulling him forward. Halfway across the square, however, she stopped dead.

'Harry, look!'

She was pointing at the war memorial. As they had passed it, it had transformed. Instead of an obelisk covered in names, there was a statue of three people: a man with untidy hair and glasses, a woman with long hair and a kind, pretty face, a toddler holding onto his father's finger and a baby girl in her mother's arms. Snow lay upon all their heads, like fluffy white caps.

Kitty drew closer, gazing up into her parents' faces. She had never imagined that there would be a statue... How strange it was to see herself represented in stone, a happy baby…

'C'mon,' said Harry, when he had looked his fill, and they turned again toward the church. As they crossed the road, he glanced over his shoulder; the statue had turned back into the war memorial.

Hermione pushed the gate, the entrance of the graveyard open as quietly as possible and they edged through it. On either side of the slippery path to the church doors, the snow lay deep and untouched. They moved off through the snow, carving deep trenches behind them as they walked around the building, keeping to the shadows beneath the brilliant windows.

Behind the church, row upon row of snowy tombstones protruded from a blanket of pale blue that was flecked with dazzling red, gold, and green wherever the reflections from the stained glass hit the snow. Keeping his hand closed tightly on the wand in his jacket pocket, they waded deeper and deeper into the graveyard, gouging dark tracks into the snow behind them, stooping to peer at the words on old headstones, every now and then squinting into the surrounding darkness to make absolutely sure that they were unaccompanied.

'Harry, Kitty, here!'

Hermione was two rows of tombstones away; Harry and Kitty had to wade back to her.

'Is it…?'

'No, but look!'

She pointed to the dark stone. Harry stooped down and saw, upon the frozen, lichen-spotted granite, the words Kendra Dumbledore and, a short way down her dates of birth and death, and Her Daughter Ariana. There was also a quotation:

_Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also._

So Rita Skeeter and Muriel had got some of their facts right. The Dumbledore family had indeed lived here, and part of it had died here.

Hermione was looking at Harry, and he was glad that his face was hidden in shadow. He read the words on the tombstone again. _Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also_. He did not understand what these words meant. Surely Dumbledore had chosen them, as the eldest member of the family once his mother had died.

'Are you sure he never mentioned…?' Hermione began.

'No,' said Harry curtly, then, 'let's keep looking,' and he turned away, wishing he had not seen the stone: He did not want his excited trepidation tainted with resentment.

'Here!' cried Hermione again a few moments later from out of the darkness. 'Oh no, sorry! I thought it said Potter.'

She was rubbing at a crumbling, mossy stone, gazing down at it, a little frown on her face.

'Harry, Kitty, come back a moment.'

'What?'

'Look at this!'

The grave was extremely old, weathered so that Harry could hardly make out the name. Hermione showed him the symbol beneath it.

'Harry, that's the mark in the book!'

He peered at the place she indicated: The stone was so worn that it was hard to make out what was engraved there, though there did seem to be a triangular mark beneath the nearly illegible name.

'Yeah... it could be...'

Hermione lit her wand and pointed it at the name on the headstone.

'It says Ig…Ignotus, I think...'

'We're going to keep looking for our parents, all right?' Harry told her, a slight edge to his voice, and he set off again with Kitty, leaving Hermione crouched beside the old grave.

Then Hermione's voice came out of the blackness for the third time, sharp and clear from a few yards away.

'Harry, they're here... right here.'

Harry and Kitty moved toward her. The headstone was only two rows behind Kendra and Ariana's. It was made of white marble, just like Dumbledore's tomb, and this made it easy to read, as it seemed to shine in the dark. Kitty did not need to kneel or even approach very close to it to make out the words engraved upon it.

_JAMES POTTER, LILY POTTER_

BORN 27 MARCH 1960, BORN 30 JANUARY 1960

DIED 31 OCTOBER 1981, DIED 31 OCTOBER 1981

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

Kitty read the words slowly, as though she would have only one chance to take in their meaning, and she read the last of them aloud.

'Isn't that a Death Eater idea? Why is that there?' said Harry.

'It doesn't mean defeating death in the way the Death Eaters mean it, Harry,' said Hermione, her voice gentle. 'It means... you know... living beyond death. Living after death.'

But they were not living, thought Kitty. They were gone. The empty words could not disguise the fact that her parents' moldering remains lay beneath snow and stone, indifferent, unknowing. And tears came before she could stop them, boiling hot then instantly freezing on her face, and what was the point in wiping them off or pretending? She let them fall, her lips pressed hard together, looking down at the thick snow hiding from her eyes the place where the last of Lily and James lay, bones now, surely, or dust, not knowing or caring that their living son and daughter stood so near, close to wishing, at this moment, that she was sleeping under the snow with them.

Harry had taken her hand and was gripping it tightly. Hermione raised her wand, moved it in a circle through the air, and a wreath of Christmas roses blossomed before them. Harry caught it and laid it on his parents' grave.

As soon as he stood up he wanted to leave: He did not think he could stand another moment there. He put his arm around Kitty's shoulders, and she put hers around his waist, and they turned in silence and walked away through the snow, past Dumbledore's mother and sister, back toward the dark church and the out-of-sight gate.

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	21. Chapter 21

Bathilda Bagshot

**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP.

'There's someone there,' whispered Hermione, 'Someone watching us. I can tell. There, over by the bushes.'

They stood quite still, holding on to each other, gazing at the dense black boundary of the graveyard. Kitty could not see anything.

'But,we look like Muggles,' Harry pointed out.

'Muggles who've just been laying flowers on your parents' grave? Harry, I'm sure there's someone over there!' said Hermione.

'It's a cat,' said Harry, after a second or two, 'or a bird. If it was a Death Eater we'd be dead by now. But let's get out of here, and we can put the Cloak back on.'

They glanced back repeatedly as they made their way out of the graveyard. They pulled the Invisibility Cloak back over themselves.

Hermione murmured, 'Let's go this way,' and pulled them down the dark street leading out of the village in the opposite direction from which they had entered.

'How are we going to find Bathilda's house?' asked Kitty, who was shivering a little and kept glancing back over her shoulder. 'Harry? What do you think? Harry?'

She tugged at this arm, but Harry was not paying attention. He was looking toward the dark mass that stood at the very end of this row of houses. Next moment he sped up, dragging Hermione and Kitty along with him.

'Harry…'

'Look... Look at it, Hermione...'

'I don't... oh!'

Kitty could see it; the Fidelius Charm must have died with James and Lily. The hedge had grown wild in the sixteen years since Hagrid had taken Harry from the rubble that lay scattered amongst the waist-high grass. Most of the cottage was still standing, though entirely covered in the dark ivy and snow, but the right side of the top floor had been blown apart; that, Kitty was sure, was where the curse had backfired.

'I wonder why nobody's ever rebuilt it?' whispered Hermione.

'Maybe you can't rebuild it?' Harry replied. 'Maybe it's like the injuries from Dark Magic and you can't repair the damage?'

He slipped a hand from beneath the Cloak and grasped the snowy and thickly rusted gate, not wishing to open it, but simply so he'd some part of the house.

'You're not going to go inside? It looks unsafe, it might…oh, Harry, look!'

His touch on the gate seemed to have done it. A sign had risen out of the ground in front of them, up thorough the tangles of nettles and weeds, like some bizarre, fast-growing flower, and in golden letters upon the wood it said:

On this spot, on this night of 31 October 1981, Lily and James Potter lost their lives. They had two children, both of whom survived: Harry James potter and Katherine Lily Potter. Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard ever to have survived the Killing Curse. This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters and as a reminder of the violence that tore apart their family.

And all around these neatly lettered words, scribbles had been added by other witches and wizards who had come to see the place where the Boy Who Lived had escaped. Some had merely signed their names in Everlasting Ink; others had carved their initials into the wood, still others had left messages. The most recent of these, shining brightly over sixteen years' worth of magical graffiti, all said similar things.

_Good luck, Harry, wherever you are._

If you read this, Harry, we're all behind you!

Long live Harry Potter.

'They shouldn't have written on the sign!' said Hermione, indignant.

But Harry beamed at her.

'It's brilliant. I'm glad they did. I...'

He broke off. A heavily muffled figure was hobbling up the lane toward them, silhouetted by the bright lights in the distant square. Kitty thought, though it was hard to judge, that the figure was a woman. She was moving slowly, possibly frightened of slipping on the snowy ground. Her stoop, her stoutness, her shuffling gait all gave an impression of extreme age. They watched in silence as she drew nearer. Kitty was waiting to see whether she would turn into any of the cottages she was passing, but he knew instinctively that she would not. At last she came to a halt a few yards from them and simply stood there in the middle of the frozen road, facing them.

He did not need Hermione's pinch to his arm. There was next to no chance that this woman was a Muggle: She was standing there gazing at a house that ought to have been completely invisible to her, if she was not a witch. Even assuming that she was a witch, however, it was odd behavior to come out on a night this cold, simply to look at an old ruin. By all the rules of normal magic, meanwhile, she ought not to be able to see Hermione, Kitty and him at all. Nevertheless, Harry had the strangest feeling that she knew that they were there, and also who they were. Just as he had reached this uneasy conclusion, she raised a gloved hand and beckoned.

Kitty moved closer to Harry under the Cloak, and clutched his arm.

'How does she know?'

He shook his head. The woman beckoned again, more vigorously. Was it possible that she had been waiting for them all these long months? That Dumbledore had told her to wait, and that Harry would come in the end? Was it not likely that it was she who had moved in the shadows in the graveyard and had followed them to this spot? Even her ability to sense them suggested some Dumbledore-ish power that he had never encountered before.

Finally Harry spoke, causing Kitty to gasp and jump.

'Are you Bathilda?'

The muffled figure nodded and beckoned again.

Beneath the Cloak Harry, Kitty and Hermione looked at each other. Harry raised his eyebrows; Hermione gave a tiny, nervous nod.

They stepped toward the woman and, at once, she turned and hobbled off back the way they had come. Leading them past several houses, she turned in at a gate. They followed her up the front path through a garden nearly as overgrown as the one they had just left. She fumbled for a moment with a key at the front door, then opened it and stepped back to let them pass.

She smelled bad, or perhaps it was her house; Kitty wrinkled his nose as they sidled past her and pulled off the Cloak. Now that she was beside her, she realized how tiny she was; bowed down with age, she came barely level with her shoulder. She closed the door behind them, her knuckles blue and mottled against the peeling paint, then turned and peered into Harry's face.

'Bathilda?' Harry repeated.

She nodded again. Kitty became aware of the locket against her skin; the thing inside it that sometimes ticked or beat had woken; she could feel it pulsing through the cold gold. Did it know, could it sense, that the thing that would destroy it was near?

Bathilda shuffled past them, pushing Hermione aside as though she had not seen her, and vanished into what seemed to be a sitting room.

'Harry, I'm not sure about this,' breathed Hermione.

'Look at the size of her, I think we could overpower her if we had to,' said Harry. 'Listen, I should have told you, I knew she wasn't all there. Muriel called her 'gaga.''

'Come!' called Bathilda from the next room.

Kitty jumped.

'It's okay,' said Harry reassuringly, and he led the way into the sitting room.

'Let me do that,' offered Harry, and he took the matches from her. She stood watching him as he finished lighting the candle stubs that stood on saucers around the room, perched precariously on stacks of books and on side tables crammed with cracked and moldy cups.

The last surface on which Harry spotted a candle was a bow-fronted chest of drawers on which there stood a large number of photographs. When the flame danced into life, its reflection wavered on their dusty glass and silver.

'Mrs…Miss…Bagshot?' Harry said, picking up a photograph. 'Who is this?'

Bathilda was standing in the middle of the room watching Hermione light the fire for her.

'Miss Bagshot?' Harry repeated, and he advanced with the picture in his hands as the flames burst into life in the fireplace. Bathilda looked up at his voice, and the Horcrux beat faster upon Kitty's chest.

'Who is this person?' Harry asked her, pushing the picture forward.

She peered at it solemnly, then up at Harry.

'Do you know who this is?' he repeated in a much slower and louder voice than usual. 'This man? Do you know him? What's he called?'

'Harry, what are you doing?' asked Kitty.

'This picture. Hermione, it's the thief, the thief who stole from Gregorovitch! Please!' he said to Bathilda. 'Who is this?'

But she only stared at him.

'Why did you ask us to come with you, Mrs… Miss…Bagshot?' asked Hermione, raising her own voice. 'Was there something you wanted to tell us?'

Giving no sign that she had heard Hermione, Bathilda now shuffled a few steps closer to Harry. With a little jerk of her head she looked back into the hall.

'You want us to leave?' he asked.

She repeated the gesture, this time pointing firstly at him, then at herself, then at the ceiling.

'Oh, right... Hermione, I think she wants me to go upstairs with her.'

'All right,' said Kitty, 'let's go.'

But when Kitty moved, Bathilda shook her head with surprising vigor, once more pointing first at Harry, then to herself.

'She wants me to go with her, alone.'

'Why?" asked Kitty, and her voice rang out sharp and clear in the candlelit room, the old lady shook her head a little at the loud noise.

'Maybe Dumbledore told her to give the sword to me, and only to me?'

'Do you really think she knows who you are?'

'Yes,' said Harry, looking down into the milky eyes fixed upon his own. 'I think she does.'

'Well, okay then, but be quick, Harry.'

'Lead the way,' Harry told Bathilda.

She seemed to understand, because she shuffled around him toward the door. Harry glanced back at Hermione and Kitty with a reassuring smile. As Harry walked out of the room, he slipped the silver-framed photograph of the unknown thief inside his jacket.

Hermione and Kitty waited. The Horcrux was beating faster and faster against Kitty's heart.

'Hermione,' said Kitty, pulling out the locket from underneath her robes, 'Feel the locket. What's wrong with it?'

Hermione gripped the locket hard and gasped.

'It never did that whenever I wore it,' said Hermione.

'I know,' said Kitty, 'it never did that earlier. It's been beating more strongly ever since we came here to Godric's…'

Kitty screamed. The Horcrux had twitched so that the front of her sweater actually moved.

'What?' said Hermione.

'Something's wrong, I know,' said Kitty, 'we should leave!'

At that moment, they heard a resounding crash from upstairs.

'Harry?' called Hermione uncertainly.

Kitty rushed upstairs, with Hermione at her heels, both had drawn their wands. They flung open the door to reveal a gigantic snake, coiled around Harry.

'Relashio!' cried Kitty pointing her wand at it. The snake uncoiled itself and dived towards Kitty. Hermione and Kitty darted aside shrieking. Hermione's deflected curse hit the curtained window, which shattered. Frozen air filled the room as Harry ducked to avoid another shower of broken glass and his foot slipped on a pencil-like something…his wand…

He bent and snatched it up, but now the room was full of the snake, its tail thrashing. Hermione was nowhere to be seen and for a moment Kitty thought the worst, but then there was a loud bang and a flash of red light, and the snake flew into the air, smacking Harry hard in the face as it went, coil after heavy coil rising up to the ceiling. Harry raised his wand, but as he did so, his scar seared more painfully, more powerfully than it had done in years.

'He's coming! Kat, he's coming!'

As he yelled the snake fell, hissing wildly. Everything was chaos: It smashed shelves from the wall, and splintered china flew everywhere as Harry jumped over the bed and seized the dark shape he knew to be Hermione.

She shrieked with pain as he pulled her back across the bed: The snake reared again, but Harry knew that worse than the snake was coming, was perhaps already at the gate, his head was going to split open with the pain from his scar.

The snake lunged as he took a running leap, dragging Hermione with him; as it struck, Hermione screamed, 'Confringo!' and her spell flew around the room, exploding the wardrobe mirror and ricocheting back at them, bouncing from floor to ceiling; Harry felt the heat of it sear the back of his hand. Kitty flung herself towards Harry, her scream reverberating through the night as they twisted in midair...

And then Harry's scar burst open and he was Voldemort and he was running across the fetid bedroom, his long white hands clutching at the windowsill as them vanish, and he screamed with rage, a scream that mingled with the Kitty's, that echoed across the dark gardens over the church bells ringing in Christmas Day...

'Harry, it's all right, you're all right!' Kitty could hear Hermione saying.

Harry opened his eyes.

'Harry,' Hermione whispered. 'Do you feel all…all right?'

'Yes,' he said.

They were in the tent, lying on one of the lower bunks beneath a heap of blankets.

'We got away.'

'Yes,' said Hermione. 'I had to use a Hover Charm to get you into your bunk. I couldn't lift you. You've been... Well, you haven't been quite...'

'You've been ill,' she finished. 'Quite ill.'

'How long ago did we leave?'

'Hours ago. It's nearly morning.'

'And I've been... what, unconscious?'

'Not exactly,' said Hermione uncomfortably. 'You've been shouting and moaning and... things,' she added in a tone that made Harry feel uneasy. What had he done? Screamed curses like Voldemort, cried like the baby in the crib?

'The snake hit you, but I've cleaned the wound and put some dittany on it...and Kitty…Kitty' sobbed Hermione.

'What happened to her?' said Harry, sitting up.

'She—she,' spluttered Hermione, 'the—the locket, the Horcrux sort of possessed her. I think it sensed that You Know Who was coming and—and then, Kitty started screaming, and I got you both back, but she wouldn't stop screaming. She was writhing, as though under the Cruciatus Curse…'

Harry jumped out of his bed, and strode over to Kitty's bunk. Kitty lay white faced, her eyes full of terror.

'She's still in shock, she wouldn't speak for about two hours. But she's much better now,' said Hermione, 'the Horcrux had stuck to her skin, and it wouldn't come off. I had to use a Severing Charm, but it's left a mark…'

Harry looked at the scarlet oval shaped mark on her Kitty's chest, where the locket had burned her.

'Harry…Harry,' said Kitty, groping in the air for Harry's hand.

'Kat, you're okay, now?' said Harry, holding her tightly.

'Ye—yes,' said Kitty, her voice trembling, 'I saw Hi—Him.'

'What else?' said Harry urgently.

'The night at the graveyard,' said Kitty, sitting up, 'when the lo—locket stuck to me, I heard his voice in my head.'

'What did he say?' said Harry at once.

'He asked me who I was,' said Kitty, 'I didn't answer. He asked me how I got the locket. I didn't answer again. Then he hurt m—me. It was like being cr—crucioed. And I saw the scenes at the graveyard. Then I saw you dead…Remus dead…Draco dead…'

'Where've you put the Horcrux?' Harry asked Hermione.

'In my bag. I think we should keep it off for a while.'

'We shouldn't have gone to Godric's Hollow,' said Harry, 'It's my fault, it's all my fault. Kat, I'm so sorry.'

'It's not you fault. I wanted to go too; I wanted to see our parents' graves too and I really thought Dumbledore might have left the sword there for you,' said Kitty.

'Yeah, well... we got that wrong, didn't we?'

'What happened, Harry? What happened when she took you upstairs? Was the snake hiding somewhere? Did it just come out and kill her and attack you?' said Hermione.

'No,' he said. 'She was the snake... or the snake was her... all along.'

'W-what?'

'Bathilda must've been dead a while. The snake was... was inside her. You-Know-Who put it there in Godric's Hollow, to wait. You were right. He knew I'd go back.'

'The snake was inside her?' said Kitty.

'Remus said there would be magic we'd never imagined,' Harry said. 'She didn't want to talk in front of you, because it was Parseltongue, all Parseltongue, and I didn't realize, but of course I could understand her. Once we were up in the room, the snake sent a message to You-Know-Who, I heard it happen inside my head, I felt him get excited, he said to keep me there... and then...she changed, changed into the snake, and attacked. It wasn't supposed to kill me, just keep me there till You-Know-Who came.'

'That's…that's how she knew we were there, the snake saw us under the cloak. Just like at the graveyard, when it saw me under the cloak,' said Kitty with a shudder.

'Forget about it,' said Harry firmly. 'But I don't understand. How did you know what had happened? Why did you come upstairs?'

'Well,' said Hermione looking at Kitty, 'Kitty said that the Horcrux was...'

And she told him what Kitty had told her. Harry looked at Kitty for a minute and then said, 'Where's my wand, Hermione?'

She was biting her lip, and tears swam in her eyes.

'Harry...'

'Where's my wand?'

She reached down beside the bed and held it out to him.

The holly and phoenix wand was nearly severed in two. One fragile strand of phoenix feather kept both pieces hanging together. The wood had splintered apart completely. Harry took it into his hands as though it was a living thing that had suffered a terrible injury. He could not think properly: Everything was a blur of panic and fear. Then he held out the want to Hermione.

'Mend it. Please.'

'Harry, I don't think, when it's broken like this…'

'Please, Hermione, try!'

'R-Reparo.'

The dangling half of the wand resealed itself. Harry held it up.

'Lumos!'

The wand sparked feebly, and then went out. Harry pointed it at Hermione.

'Expelliarmus!'

Hermione's wand gave a little jerk, but did not leave her hand. The feeble attempt at magic was too much for Harry's wand, which split into two again. He stared at it, aghast, unable to take in what he was seeing... the wand that had survived so much...

'Harry,' Hermione whispered so quietly he could hardly hear her. 'I'm so, so sorry. I think it was me. As we were leaving, you know, the snake was coming for us, and so I cast a Blasting Curse, and it rebounded everywhere, and it must have…must have hit…'

'It was an accident,' said Harry mechanically. He felt empty, stunned. 'We'll…we'll find a way to repair it.'

'Harry, I don't think we're going to be able to,' said Hermione, the ears trickling down her face. 'Remember... remember Ron? When he broke his wand, crashing the car? It was never the same again, he had to get a new one.'

Harry thought of Ollivander, kidnapped and held hostage by Voldemort; of Gregorovitch, who was dead. How was he supposed to find himself a new wand?

'Harry,' said Kitty softly, 'you can have mine.'

She held out her wand to him.

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	22. Chapter 22

The Life and Lies of Dumbledore

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

Harry pulled the pieces of the broken wand out of his pocket and, without looking at them, tucked them away in Hagrid's pouch around his neck. The pouch was now too full of broken and useless objects to take any more. Harry's hand brushed the old Snitch through the moleskin and for a moment he had to fight the temptation to pull it out and throw it away. Impenetrable, unhelpful, useless, like everything else Dumbledore had left behind.

And his fury at Dumbledore broke over him now like lava, scorching him inside, wiping out every other feeling. Out of sheer desperation they had talked themselves into believing that Godric's Hollow held answers, convinced themselves that they were supposed to go back, that it was all part of some secret path laid out for them by Dumbledore: but there was no map, no plan. Dumbledore had left them to grope in the darkness, to wrestle with unknown and undreamed-of terrors, alone and unaided: Nothing was explained, nothing was given freely, they had no sword, and now, Harry had no wand. On top of that Voldemort knew that they had the locket…he knew that they were hunting Horcruxes.

'Harry?' said Kitty looking frightened that he might curse her with her own wand.

'What?' said Harry.

'We…we want to talk to you,' said Kitty.

They went back inside the tent.

'Harry, you wanted to know who that man in the picture was. Well... I've got the book,' said Hermione.

Timidly she pushed it onto his lap, a pristine copy of The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore.

'Where…how…?'

'It was in Bathilda's sitting room, just lying there... This note was sticking out of the top of it.'

Hermione read the few lines of spiky, acid-green writing aloud.

'_Dear Batty, Thanks for your help. Here's a copy of the book, hope you like it. You said everything, even if you don't remember it. Rita.'_

'I think it must have arrived while the real Bathilda was alive, but perhaps she wasn't in any fit state to read it?' said Kitty.

Harry looked down upon Dumbledore's face and experienced a surge of savage pleasure: Now he would know if all the things that Dumbledore had never thought it worth telling him, whether Dumbledore wanted him to or not.

'You're still really angry at me, aren't you?' said Hermione; he looked up to see fresh tears leaking out of her eyes, and knew that his anger must have shown in his face.

'No,' he said quietly. 'No, Hermione, I know it was an accident. You were trying to get us out of there alive, and you were incredible. We'd be dead if you hadn't been there to help us.'

He tried to return her watery smile, and then turned his attention to the book. Its spine was stiff; it had clearly never been opened before. He riffled through the pages, looking for photographs. He came across the one he sought almost at once, the young Dumbledore and his handsome companion, roaring with laughter at some long-forgotten joke. Harry dropped his eyes to the caption.  
_  
Albus Dumbledore, shortly after his mother's death, with his friend Gellert Grindelwald._

Harry gaped at the last word for several long moments. Grindelwald. His friend Grindelwald. He looked sideways at Kitty, who was still contemplating the name as though she could not believe her eyes. Slowly she looked up at Harry.

'Grindelwald!'

Ignoring the remainder of the photographs, Harry searched the pages around them for a recurrence of that fatal name. He soon discovered it and read greedily, but became lost: It was necessary to go farther back to make sense of it all, and eventually he found himself at the start of a chapter entitled 'The Greater Good. Together, he started to read:

_Now approaching his eighteenth birthday, Dumbledore left Hogwarts in a blaze of glory, Head Boy, Prefect, Winner of the Barnabus Finkley Prize for Exceptional Spell-Casting, British Youth Representative to the Wizengamot, Gold Medal-Winner for Ground-Breaking Contribution to the International Alchemical Conference in Cairo. Dumbledore intended, next, to take a Grand Tour with Elphias 'Dogbreath' Doge, the dim-witted but devoted sidekick he had picked up at school._

The two young men were staying at the Leaky Cauldron in London, preparing to depart for Greece the following morning, when an owl arrived bearing news of Dumbledore's mother's death. 'Dogbreath' Doge, who refused to be interviewed for this book, has given the public his own sentimental version of what happened next. He represents Kendra's death as a tragic blow, and Dumbledore's decision to give up his expedition as an act of noble self-sacrifice.

Certainly Dumbledore returned to Godric's Hollow at once, supposedly to 'care' for his younger brother and sister. But how much care did he actually give them?

'He were a head case, that Aberforth,' said Enid Smeek, whose family lived on the outskirts of Godric's Hollow at that time. 'Ran wild. 'Course, with his mum and dad gone you'd have felt sorry for him, only he kept chucking goat dung at my head. I don't think Albus was fussed about him. I never saw them together, anyway.'

So what was Albus doing, if not comforting his wild young brother? The answer, it seems, is ensuring the continued imprisonment of his sister. For though her first jailer had died, there was no change in the pitiful condition of Ariana Dumbledore. Her very existence continued to be known only to those few outsiders who, like 'Dogbreath' Doge, could be counted upon to believe in the story of her 'ill health.'

Another such easily satisfied friend of the family was Bathilda Bagshot, the celebrated magical historian who has lived in Godric's Hollow for many years. Kendra, of course, had rebuffed Bathilda when she first attempted to welcome the family to the village. Several years later, however, the author sent an owl to Albus at Hogwarts, having been favorably impressed by his paper on cross-species transformation in Transfiguration Today. This initial contract led to acquaintance with the entire Dumbledore family. At the time of Kendra's death, Bathilda was the only person in Godric's Hollow who was on speaking terms with Dumbledore's mother.

Unfortunately, the brilliance that Bathilda exhibited earlier in her life has now dimmed. 'The fire's lit, but the cauldron's empty,' as Ivor Dillonsby put it to me, or, in Enid Smeek's slightly earthier phrase, 'She's nutty as squirrel poo.' Nevertheless, a combination of tried-and-tested reporting techniques enabled me to extract enough nuggets of hard fact to string together the whole scandalous story.

Like the rest of the Wizarding world, Bathilda puts Kendra's premature death down to a backfiring charm, a story repeated by Albus and Aberforth in later years. Bathilda also parrots the family line on Ariana, calling her 'frail' and 'delicate.' On one subject, however, Bathilda is well worth the effort I put into procuring Veritaserum, for she, and she alone, knows the full story of the best-kept secret of Albus Dumbledore's life. Now revealed for the first time, it calls into question everything that his admirers believed of Dumbledore: his supposed hatred of the Dark Arts, his opposition into the oppression of Muggles, even his devotion to his own family.

The very same summer that Dumbledore went home to Godric's Hollow, now an orphan and head of the family, Bathilda Bagshot agreed to accept into her home her great-nephew, Gellert Grindelwald.

The name of Grindelwald is justly famous: In a list of Most Dangerous Dark Wizards of All Time, he would miss out on the top spot only because You- Know-Who arrived, a generation later, to steal his crown. As Grindelwald never extended his campaign of terror to Britain, however, the details of his rise to power are not widely known here.

Educated at Durmstrang, a school famous even then for its unfortunate tolerance of the Dark Arts, Grindelwald showed himself quite as precociously brilliant as Dumbledore. Rather than channel his abilities into the attainment of awards and prizes, however, Gellert Grindelwald devoted himself to other pursuits. At sixteen years old, even Durmstrang felt it could no longer turn a blind eye to the twisted experiments of Gellert Grindelwald, and he was expelled.

Hitherto, all that has been known of Grindelwald's next movements is that he 'traveled around for some months.' It can now be revealed that Grindelwald chose to visit his great-aunt in Godric's Hollow, and that there, intensely shocking though it will be for many to hear it, he struck up a close friendship with none other than Albus Dumbledore.

'He seemed a charming boy to me,' babbles Bathilda, 'whatever he became later. Naturally I introduced him to poor Albus, who was missing the company of lads his own age. The boys took to each other at once.'

They certainly did. Bathilda shows me a letter, kept by her that Albus Dumbledore sent Gellert Grindelwald in the dead of night.

'Yes, even after they'd spent all day in discussion, both such brilliant young boys, they got on like a cauldron on fire. I'd sometimes hear an owl tapping at Gellert's bedroom window, delivering a letter from Albus! An idea would have struck him and he had to let Gellert know immediately!'

And what ideas they were. Profoundly shocking though Albus Dumbledore's fans will find it, here are the thoughts of their seventeen-year-old hero, as relayed to his new best friend. (A copy of the original letter may be seen on page 463.)

Your point about Wizard dominance being FOR THE MUGGLES' OWN GOOD, this, I think, is the crucial point. Yes, we have been given power and yes, that power gives us the right to rule, but it also gives us responsibilities over the ruled. We must stress this point, it will be the foundation stone upon which we build. Where we are opposed, as we surely will be, this must be the basis of all our counterarguments. We seize control FOR THE GREATER GOOD. And from this it follows that where we meet resistance, we must use only the force that is necessary and no more. (This was your mistake at Durmstrang! But I do not complain, because if you had not been expelled, we would never have met.)

Albus

Astonished and appalled though his many admirers will be, this letter constitutes the Statute of Secrecy and establishing Wizard rule over Muggles. What a blow for those who have always portrayed Dumbledore as the Muggle-borns' greatest champion! How hollow those speeches promoting Muggle rights seem in the light of this damning new evidence! How despicable does Albus Dumbledore appear, busy plotting his rise to power when he should have been mourning his mother and caring for his sister!

No doubt those determined to keep Dumbledore on his crumbling pedestal will bleat that he did not, after all, put his plans into action, that he must have suffered a change of heart, that he came to his senses. However, the truth seems altogether more shocking.

Barely two months into their great new friendship, Dumbledore and Grindelwald parted, never to see each other again until they met for their legendary duel (for more, see chapter 22). What caused this abrupt rupture? Had Dumbledore come to his senses? Had he told Grindelwald he wanted no more part in his plans? Alas, no.

'It was poor little Ariana dying, I think, that did it,' says Bathilda. 'It came as an awful shock. Gellert was there in the house when it happened, and he came back to my house all of a dither, told me he wanted to go home the next day. Terribly distressed, you know. So I arranged a Portkey and that was the last I saw of him.'

'Albus was beside himself at Ariana's death. It was so dreadful for those two brothers. They had lost everybody except for each other. No wonder tempers ran a little high. Aberforth blamed Albus, you know, as people will under these dreadful circumstances. But Aberforth always talked a little madly, poor boy. All the same, breaking Albus's nose at the funeral was not decent. It would have destroyed Kendra to see her sons fighting like that, across her daughter's body. A shame Gellert could not have stayed for the funeral... He would have been a comfort to Albus, at least...

This dreadful coffin-side brawl, known only to those few who attended Ariana Dumbledore's funeral, raises several questions. Why exactly did Aberforth Dumbledore blame Albus for his sister's death? Was it, as "Batty" pretends, a mere effusion of grief? Or could there have been some more concrete reason for his fury? Grindelwald, expelled from Durmstrang for the near-fatal attacks upon fellow students, fled the country hours after the girl's death, and Albus (out of shame or fear?) never saw him again, not until forced to do so by the pleas of the Wizarding world.

Neither Dumbledore nor Grindelwald ever seems to have referred to this brief boyhood friendship in later life. However, there can be no doubt that Dumbledore delayed, for some five years of turmoil, fatalities, and disappearances, his attack upon Gellert Grindelwald. Was it lingering affection for the man or fear of exposure as his once best friend that caused Dumbledore to hesitate? Was it only reluctantly that Dumbledore set out to capture the man he was once so delighted he had met?

And how did the mysterious Ariana die? Was she the inadvertent victim of some Dark rite? Did she stumble across something she ought not to have done, as the two young men sat practicing for their attempt at glory and domination? Is it possible that Ariana Dumbledore was the first person to die for the greater good?'  
  
The chapter ended here and Harry looked up. Hermione had reached the bottom of the page before him. She tugged the book out of Harry's hands, looking a little alarmed by his expression, and closed it without looking at it, as though hiding something indecent.

Harry shook his head. Some inner certainty had crashed down inside him; it was exactly as he had felt after Ron left. He had trusted Dumbledore, believed him the embodiment of goodness and wisdom. All was ashes: How much more could he lose? Ron, Dumbledore, the phoenix wand...

'Harry,' said Kitty who seemed to have heard his thoughts. 'Listen to me. It…it doesn't make a very nice reading…'

'Yeah, you could say that…'

'… but don't forget, Harry, this is Rita Skeeter writing,' said Kitty.

'You did read that letter to Grindelwald, didn't you?'

'Yes, I.. I did.' She hesitated, looking upset, cradling her tea in her cold hands. 'I think that's the worst bit. I know Bathilda thought it was all just talk, but 'For the Greater Good' became Grindelwald's slogan, his justification for all the atrocities he committed later. And... from that... it looks like Dumbledore gave him the idea. They say 'For the Greater Good' was even carved over the entrance to Nurmengard.'

'What's Nurmengard?'

'The prison Grindelwald had built to hold his opponents. He ended up in there himself, once Dumbledore had caught him. Anyway, it's…it's an awful thought that Dumbledore's ideas helped Grindelwald rise to power. But on the other hand, even Rita can't pretend that they knew each other for more than a few months one summer when they were both really young, and…'

'I thought you'd say that,' said Harry. He did not want to let his anger spill out at her, but it was hard to keep his voice steady. 'I thought you'd say 'They were young.' They were the same age as we are now. And here we are, risking our lives to fight the Dark Arts, and there he was, in a huddle with his new best friend, plotting their rise to power over the Muggles.'

His temper would not remain in check much longer: He stood up and walked around, trying to work some of it off.

'I'm not trying to defend what Dumbledore wrote,' said Kitty. 'All that 'right to rule' rubbish, it's 'Magic Is Might' all over again. But Harry, his mother had just died, he was stuck alone in the house…'

'Alone? He wasn't alone! He had his brother and sister for company, his Squib sister he was keeping locked up…'

'I don't believe it,' said Kitty. She stood up too. 'Whatever was wrong with that girl, I don't think she was a Squib. The Dumbledore we knew would never, ever have allowed…'

'The Dumbledore we thought we knew didn't want to conquer Muggles by force!' Harry shouted, his voice echoing across the empty hilltop, and several blackbirds rose into the air, squawking and spiraling against the pearly sky.

'He changed, Harry, he changed! It's as simple as that!,' said Kitty, 'Maybe he did believe these things when he was seventeen, but the whole of the rest of his life was devoted to fighting the Dark Arts! Dumbledore was the one who stopped Grindelwald, the one who always voted for Muggle protection and Muggle born rights, who fought You-Know-Who from the start, and who died trying to bring him down!'

'Harry, I'm sorry, but I think the real reason you're so angry is that Dumbledore never told you any of this himself,' said Hermione.

'Maybe I am!' Harry bellowed, and he flung his arms over his head, hardly knowing whether he was trying to hold in his anger or protect himself from the weight of his own disillusionment. 'Look what he asked from me, Hermione! Risk your life, Harry! And again! And again! And don't expect me to explain everything, just trust me blindly, trust that I know what I'm doing, trust me even though I don't trust you! Never the whole truth! Never!'

His voice cracked with the strain, and they stood looking at each other in the whiteness and emptiness, and Harry felt they were as insignificant as insects beneath that wide sky.

'He loved you,' Hermione whispered. 'I know he loved you.'

Harry dropped his arms.

'I don't know who he loved, Hermione, but it was never me. This isn't love, the mess he's left me in. He shared a damn sight more of what he was really thinking with Gellert Grindelwald than he ever shared with me.'

Harry picked up Kitty's wand, which he had dropped in the snow, and sat back down in the entrance of the tent.

'Thanks for the tea,' said Harry, 'I'll finish the watch.'

Harry went back outside.

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	23. Chapter 23

Ron's Back!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

It was snowing by the time Kitty took over the watch at midnight. She huddled by the entrance of the tent, and took out her mirror to talk to Draco.

Harry could not sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Nagini attacking him, Gregorovitch being tortured…he could hear Kitty and Malfoy talking outside the tent.

'But are you okay?' Malfoy was saying, 'the Dark Lord was very angry that Potter slipped away yet again.'

'Yeah, he would be,' said Kitty, 'we barely managed to get away. It was scary.'

'But why did you go there?' said Malfoy.

'I'm sorry, Draco, but I can't tell you,' said Kitty.

'Knew you'd say that,' said Malfoy.

'Draco, I wish too that I could tell you, but I can't really. Please trust me,' said Kitty.

'Alright,' said Malfoy, 'listen, I have to go now. I love you, kitten.'

'I love you too, Draco,' said Kitty.

'Ahem,' said Harry, coming outside the tent.

Kitty looked at him and said to Malfoy, 'I'll talk later, bye.' She put the mirror back in her jeans pocket.

Harry sat down by her side.

'I hope you haven't told your pretty little boyfriend that we're destroying Horcruxes,' said Harry, coldly.

'No, I haven't Harry,' said Kitty. 'But you know what Harry, I don't know whether I'm going mad or what. But I think I keep hearing people moving outside. I even thought I saw someone once or twice.'

Harry paused in the act of pulling on a jumper and glanced at the silent, motionless Sneakoscope on the table.

'I'm sure I imagined it,' said Kitty, looking nervous. 'The snow the dark, it plays tricks on your eyes... But perhaps we ought to Disapparate under the Invisibility Cloak, just in case?'

Half an hour later, with the tent packed, Harry wearing the Horcrux and holding Kitty's hand and Hermione clutching the beaded bag, they Disapparated. The usual tightness engulfed them; Kittyy's feet parted company with the snowy ground, then slammed hard onto what felt like frozen earth covered in leaves.

'Where are we?' she asked, peering around at the fresh mass of trees as Hermione opened the beaded bag and began tugging out the tent poles.

'The Forest of Dean,' she said.

Here too snow lay on the trees all around and it was bitterly cold, but they were at least protected from the wind. They spent most of the day inside the tent, huddled for warmth around the useful bright blue flames that Kitty was adept at producing, and which could be scooped up and carried in a jar.

After two nights of little sleep, Harry's senses seemed more alert than usual. Their escape from Godric's Hollow had been so narrow that Voldemort seemed somehow closer than before, more threatening. As darkness drove in again Harry refused Kitty's offer to keep watch and told her to go to bed, for she looked very tired.

Kitty went back inside the tent, and lay down on her bunk, thinking. She glanced towards Hermione, who looked to be asleep. She took out her copy of _Hogwarts: a History_, and began to read it. She turned to the page about Ravenclaw and read:

_'The House of Ravenclaw was founded by Professor Rowena Ravenclaw, a Scottish witch, much notd for her intelligence and creativity. She was born in the early tenth century, and died sometime in the eleventh century, after she fell fatally ill. Legend has it, that a broken heart was the cause—because her daughter, Helena had run away with Rowena's diadem, which was said to enhance the wisdom of the wearer. It is said that Helena was jealous of her mother's famous intellect, and stole the diadem and took it to Albania, far away from her mother, in hopes of surpassing her._

_Then Rowena fell fatally ill. Disregarding her daughter's treason, she asked the Baron, who was in love with Helena, to go and find her daughter, merely wishing to see her one last time. He eventually tracked her to a forest in Albania, but when she refused to return with him, the Baron flew into a fit of rage, furious at her refusal and envious of her freedom, and stabbed her. Immediately overcome with guilt, he then took his own life. The two returned after their deaths to Hogwarts to become the school's Ravenclaw and Slytherin ghosts. Thus Rowena did not get a chance to reconcile with her daughter, before their untimely deaths. Ravenclaw's diadem was lost, never to be heard of again…'_

Kitty sat up and jumped down from her bed.

'Hermione, wake up!' said Kitty, shaking her vigorously.

Hermione sat up and stared at her. 'What's happened?'

Kitty thrust the book under her nose. After Hermione had read it, she looked up her eyes shining.

'You mean to say…' began Hermione.

'The lost Diadem of Ravenclaw is one of the Horcruxes!' said Kitty excitedly, 'It says here that Helena took the diadem away with her to Albania, and we know that not too long ago, You Know Who was in Albania!'

'Let's tell Harry,' said Hermione jumping up. Kitty and Hermione went running out of the tent. Harry was nowhere to be seen.

'Where is he?' said Kitty looking frightened, 'Hermione, take out your wand.'

'Do you think we should go and look for him?' said Hermione whipping out her wand.

'Lets wait for five minutes,' said Kitty, 'If he doesn't come, we're going. I can't believe I let him out of my sight.'

'Kat! Hermione!' a voice called behind them.

They spun around, Hermione raising her wand.

It was Harry, and a little behind him stood…

'Ron!' said Kitty happily. Ron was holding the sword and dripping onto the threadbare carpet. Kitty looked at Hermione, who looked stone-faced and had dropped her wand.

Hermione strode over to Ron, her lips slightly parted, and her eyes wide. Ron gave a weak hopeful smile and half raised his arms. Hermione launched herself forward and started punching every inch of him that she could reach.

'Ouch…ow … gerroff! What the…? Hermione…OW!'

'You… complete…arse…Ronald…Weasley!'

She punctuated every word with a blow: Ron backed away, shielding his head as Hermione advanced.

'You…crawl …back… here… after…weeks… and…weeks ….oh, where's my wand?'

Quick as lightening, Kitty picked up Hermione's fallen wand, and put both hands behind her back. She looked ready to wrestle it out of Kitty's hands, and Harry reacted instinctively.

'Protego!'

The invisible shield erupted between Ron and Hermione. The force of it knocked her backward onto the floor. Spitting hair out of her mouth, she leapt up again.

'Hermione!' said Kitty. 'Calm…'

'I will not calm down!' she screamed. Never before had she seen her lose control like this; she looked quite demented. 'Give me back my wand! Give it back to me!'

'Hermione, will you please…'

'Don't you tell me what do!' she screeched. 'Don't you dare! Give it back now! And YOU!'

She was pointing at Ron in dire accusation: It was like a malediction, and Kitty could not blame Ron for retreating several steps.

'I cam running after you! I called you! I begged you to come back!'

'I know,' Ron said, 'Hermione, I'm sorry, I'm really…'

'Oh, you're sorry!'

She laughed a high-pitched, out-of-control sound; Ron looked at Harry for help, but Harry merely grimaced his helplessness.

'It's so easy to come back after weeks and say sorry!' screamed Hermione.

'You're wrong, it's very difficult,' said Ron.

'You think it's all going to be all right if you just say sorry?'

'Well, what else can I say?' Ron shouted, and Harry was glad that Ron was fighting back.

'Oh, I don't know!' yelled Hermione with awful sarcasm. 'Rack your brains, Ron, that should only take a couple of seconds…'

'Hermione,' interjected Harry, who considered this a low blow, 'he just saved my life…'

'He did?' said Kitty, 'But what…'

'I don't care!' Hermione screamed. 'I don't care what he's done! Weeks and weeks, we could have been dead for all he knew…'

'I knew you weren't dead!' bellowed Ron, drowning her voice for the first time, and approaching as close as he could with the Shield Charm between them. 'Harry's all over the Prophet, all over the radio, they're looking for you everywhere, all these rumors and mental stories, I knew I'd hear straight off if you were dead, you don't know what it's been like…'

'What it's been like for you?'

Her voice was not so shrill only bats would be able to hear it soon, but she had reached a level of indignation that rendered her temporarily speechless, and Ron seized his opportunity.

'I wanted to come back the minute I'd Disapparated, but I walked straight into a gang of Snatchers, Hermione, and I couldn't go anywhere!'

'A gang of what?' asked Kitty.

'Snatchers,' said Ron. 'They're everywhere…gangs trying to earn gold by rounding up Muggle-borns and blood traitors, there's a reward from the Ministry for everyone captured. I was on my own and I look like I might be school age; they got really excited, thought I was a Muggle-born in hiding. I had to talk fast to get out of being dragged to the Ministry.'

'What did you say to them?'

'Told them I was Stan Shunpike. First person I could think of.'

'And they believed that?'

'They weren't the brightest. One of them was definitely part troll, the smell of him...'

Ron glanced at Hermione, clearly hopeful she might soften at this small instance of humor, but her expression remained stony.

'Anyway, they had a row about whether I was Stan or not. It was a bit pathetic to be honest, but there were still five of them and only one of me, and they'd taken my wand. Then two of them got into a fight and while the others were distracted I managed to hit the one holding me in the stomach, grabbed his wand, Disarmed the bloke holding mine, and Disapparated. I didn't do it so well. Splinched myself again' Ron held up his right hand to show two missing fingernails: Hermione raised her eyebrows coldly, 'and I came out miles from where you were. By the time I got back to that bit of riverbank where we'd been... you were gone.'

'Gosh, what a gripping story,' Hermione said in the lofty voice she adopted when wishing to wound. 'You must have been simply terrified. Meanwhile we went to Godric's Hollow and, let's think, what happened there, Harry? Oh yes, You-Know-Who's snake turned up, it nearly killed three of us, and then You-Know-Who himself arrived and missed us by about a second. And the Horcrux started possessing Kitty and now You Know Who knows we're hunting Horcruxes!'

'What?' Ron said, gaping from her to Harry to Kitty, but Hermione ignored him.

'Imagine losing fingernails, Harry! That really puts our sufferings into perspective, doesn't it?'

'Hermione,' said Harry quietly, 'Ron just saved my life.'

She appeared not to have heard him.

'One thing I would like to know, though,' she said, fixing her eyes on a spot a foot over Ron's head. 'How exactly did you find us tonight? That's important. Once we know, we'll be able to make sure we're not visited by anyone else we don't want to see.'

Ron glared at her, and then pulled a small silver object from his jeans pocket.

'This.'

She had to look at Ron to see what he was showing them.

'The Deluminator?' Kitty asked.

.It doesn't just turn the lights on and off,' said Ron. 'I don't know how it works or why it happened then and not any other time, because I've been wanting to come back ever since I left. But I was listening to the radio really early on Christmas morning and I heard... I heard you, Hermione.'

He was looking at Hermione.

'You heard me on the radio?' she asked incredulously.

'No, I heard you coming out of my pocket. Your voice,' he held up the Deluminator again, 'came out of this.'

'And what exactly did I say, may I ask?' asked Hermione, her tone somewhere between skepticism and curiosity.

'My name. 'Ron.' And you said... something about a wand...'

Hermione turned a fiery shade of scarlet. Kitty remembered: it had been the first time Ron's name had been said aloud by either of them since the day he had left; Hermione had mentioned it when talking about repairing Harry's wand.

'So I took it out,' Ron went on, looking at the Deluminator, 'and it didn't seem different or anything, but I was sure I'd heard you. So I clicked it. And the light went out in my room, but another light appeared right outside the window.'

Ron raised his empty hand and pointed in front of him, his eyes focused on something neither Harry nor Kitty nor Hermione could see.

'It was a ball of light, kind of pulsing, and bluish, like that light you get around a Portkey, you know?'

'Yeah,' said Harry and Kitty together automatically.

'I knew this was it,' said Ron. 'I grabbed my stuff and packed it, then I put on my rucksack and went out into the garden.'

'The little ball of light was hovering there, waiting for me, and when I came out it bobbed along a bit and I followed it behind the shed and then it... well, it went inside me.'

'Sorry?' said Harry, sure he had not heard correctly.

'It sort of floated toward me,' said Ron, illustrating the movement with his free index finger, 'right to my chest, and then it just went straight through. It was here,' he touched a point close to his heart, 'I could feel it, it was hot. And once it was inside me, I knew what I was supposed to do. I knew it would take me where I needed to go. So I Disapparated and came out on the side of a hill. There was snow everywhere...'

'We were there,' said Kitty. 'We spent two nights there, and the second night I kept thinking I could hear someone moving around in the dark and calling out!'

'Yeah, well, that would've been me,' said Ron. 'Your protective spells work, anyway, because I couldn't see you and I couldn't hear you. I was sure you were around, though, so in the end I got in my sleeping bag and waited for one of you to appear. I thought you'd have to show yourselves when you packed up the tent.'

'No, actually,' said Hermione. 'We've been Disapparating under the Invisibility Cloak as an extra precaution. And we left really early, because as Kitty says, we'd heard somebody blundering around.'

'Well, I stayed on that hill all day,' said Ron. 'I kept hoping you'd appear. But when it started to get dark I knew I must have missed you, so I clicked the Deluminator again, the blue light came out and went inside me, and I Disapparated and arrived here in these woods. I still couldn't see you, so I just had to hope one of you would show yourselves in the end…and Harry did. Well, I saw the doe first, obviously.'

'You saw the what?' said Kitty sharply.

'Well, I was keeping watch, in place of Kat tonight,' said Harry, 'and very soon I saw this Patronus coming towards me. It was a doe. I had a feeling that it anted me to follow it, and so I did. It led me to a small forest pool, and at the bottom of the pool, was Godric's sword. So I stripped and jumped in, but I did not take off the Horcrux. As I swam nearer to the sword, the Horcrux started strangling me.'

Kitty clapped a hand to her mouth.

'But the Patronus!' Hermione said. 'Couldn't you see who was casting it? Didn't you see anyone? And it led you to the sword! I can't believe this! Then what happened?'

Ron explained how he had watched Harry jump into the pool, and had waited for him to resurface; how he had realized that something was wrong, dived in, and saved Harry, then returned for the sword. He got as far as the opening of the locket, then hesitated, and Harry cut in.

'… and Ron stabbed it with the sword.'

'And... and it went? Just like that?' Kitty whispered.

'Well, it… it screamed,' said Harry with half a glance at Ron. 'Here.'

He threw the locket towards her. Kitty caught it and gingerly she held it up and examined its punctured windows.

Deciding that it was at last safe to do so, Harry removed the Shield Charm with a wave of Kitty's wand and turned to Ron. Kitty threw Hermione's wand to her.

'Did you just say now that you got away from the snatchers with a spare wand?'

'What?' said Ron, who had been watching Hermione examining the locket. 'Oh…oh yeah.'

He tugged open a buckle on his rucksack and pulled a short dark wand out of his pocket. 'Here, I figured it's always handy to have a backup.'

'You were right,' said Harry, holding out his hand. 'Mine's broken.'

'You're kidding?' Ron said, but at that moment Hermione stomped back into the tent, and he looked apprehensive again. Harry, Ron and Kitty followed her.

Hermione put the vanquished Horcrux into the beaded bag, then climbed back into her bed and settled down without another word.

Ron passed Harry the new wand.

'About the best you could hope for, I think,' murmured Harry.

'Yeah,' said Ron. 'Could've been worse. Remember those birds she set on me?'

'I still haven't ruled it out,' came Hermione's muffled voice from beneath her blankets, but Kitty saw Ron smiling slightly as he pulled his maroon pajamas out of his rucksack.

'Listen,' said Kitty, 'I found out something too.'

She thrust the copy of _Hogwarts: a History_ towards them and they read it.

'Good,' said Harry looking up, 'we know what one of the Horcruxes is, but do you think its still hidden in Albania.'

'I hope not,' said Kitty.

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	24. Chapter 24

A Plan At Last

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

Kitty had not expected Hermione's anger to abate over night and was therefore unsurprised that she communicated mainly by dirty looks and pointed silences the next morning. Ron responded by maintaining an unnaturally somber demeanor in her presence as an outward sign of continuing remorse. During those few moments he spent alone with Harry or Kitty, however (collecting water and searching the undergrowth for mushrooms). Ron became shamelessly cheery.

'How'd you find out about the Taboo?' said Ron one morning.

'The what?' said Kitty.

'You guys have stopped saying You Know Who's name,' said Ron.

'Well, it's just a bad habit we've slipped into,' said Kitty, 'but we really don't have any problem saying Vol—'

'NO!' roared Ron shoving Kitty headfirst into the hedge nearby.

'What's wrong with you?' said Harry wrenching Kitty back out of the brambles.

'Why'd you attack me?' said Kitty angrily.

'Sorry,' said Ron, 'But the name's been jinxed. That's how they track people! Using his name breaks protective enchantments, it causes some kind of magical disturbance…it's how they found us in Tottenham Court Road!'

'Because we used his name?' said Kitty, gaping at him.

'Exactly! You've got to give them credit, it makes sense. It was only people who were serious about standing up to him, like Dumbledore, who even dared use it. Now they've put a Taboo on it, anyone who says it is trackable, quick-and-easy way to find Order members! They nearly got Kingsley…'

'You're kidding?'

'Yeah, a bunch of Death Eaters cornered him, Bill said but he fought his way out. He's on the run now just like us.' Ron scratched his chin thoughtfully with the end of his wand. 'You don't reckon Kingsley could have sent that doe?'

'His Patronus is a lynx, we saw it at the wedding, remember?'

'Oh yeah...'

'Harry... you don't reckon that the doe was sent by been Dumbledore?' said Ron suddenly.

'Dumbledore what?'

Ron looked a little embarrassed, but said in a low voice, 'Dumbledore... the doe? I mean,' Ron was watching Harry out of the corners of his eyes, 'he had the real sword last, didn't he?'

'Dumbledore's dead,' Kitty said. 'I saw it happen, I saw the body. He's definitely gone. Anyway his Patronus was a phoenix, not a doe.'

'Patronuses can change, though can't they?' said Ron, 'Tonks's changed didn't it?'

'Yeah, but if Dumbledore was alive, why wouldn't he show himself? Why wouldn't he just hand us the sword?' said Harry.

'Search me,' said Ron. 'Same reason he didn't give it to you while he was alive? Same reason he left you an old Snitch and Hermione a book of kid's stories?'

'Which is what?' asked Harry, turning to look Ron full in the face desperate for the answer.

'I dunno,' said Ron. 'Sometimes I've thought, when I've been a bit hacked off, he was having a laugh or…or he just wanted to make it more difficult, But I don't think so, not anymore. He knew what he was doing when he gave me the Deluminator, didn't he? He…well,' Ron's ears turned bright red and he became engrossed in a tuft of grass at his feet, which he prodded with his toe, 'he must've known I'd run out on you.'

'You mean he knew that you're a jerk,' said Kitty grinning, 'Doesn't take a genius to figure that out.'

'No,' said Harry. 'He must've known you'd always want to come back.'

Ron looked grateful, but still awkward. Partly to change the subject, Harry said, 'Speaking of Dumbledore, have you heard what Skeeter wrote about him?'

'Oh yeah,' said Ron at once, 'people are talking about it quite a lot. 'Course, if things were different it'd be huge news, Dumbledore being pals with Grindelwald, but now it's just something to laugh about for people who didn't like Dumbledore, and a bit of a slap in the face for everyone who thought he was such a good bloke. I don't know that it's such a big deal, though. He was really young when they…'

'Our age,' said Harry, just as he had retorted to Hermione, and something in his face seemed to decide Ron against pursuing the subject.

A large spider sat in the middle of a frosted web in the brambles. Harry took aim at it with the wand Ron had given him the previous night, which Hermione had since condescended to examine, and had decided was made of blackthorn.

'Engorgio!'

The spider gave a little shiver, bouncing slightly in the web. Harry tried again. This time the spider grew slightly larger.

'Stop that,' said Ron sharply, 'I'm sorry I said Dumbledore was young, okay?'

Harry had forgotten Ron's hatred of spiders.

'Sorry, Reducio,'

The spider did not shrink. Harry looked down at the blackthorn wand. Every minor spell he had cast with it so far that day had seemed less powerful than those he had produced with his phoenix wand. The new one felt intrusively unfamiliar, like having somebody else's hand sewn to the end of his arm.

'At least your wand did not disobey me like that,' said Harry, looking at Kitty.

'You just need to practice,' said Kitty, 'It's all a matter of confidence Harry.'

'Yeah, you think it makes no difference?' said Harry irritably, 'then take this blackthorn wand, and I can have yours. Not too keen now, eh?'

Kitty looked hurt. 'Of course you can still keep my wand if you want, Harry. I would gladly give it you, what's a wand when compared to my brother? Just a piece of wood. But I would have appreciated it if you would've asked me nicely, Harry.'

She held out her wand to Harry, who stared at her.

'I'm sorry,' he said at once, 'No, your keep your wand, Kat. You're right, I just need to practice.'

'I wish I had a sister that would give me her wand,' said Ron, trying to break the tension between them.

Kitty grinned.

The three of them returned to the tent when darkness fell, and Kitty took first watch. Sitting in the entrance, she decided that she should learn how to conjure a Patronus. What if they were cornered by Dementors again?

'Expecto Patronum!' she said waving her wand and thinking of a happy memory. Nothing happened.

She tried a few more times, and produced only silver vapor. On the ninth or tenth attempt, she managed to produce a large animal. But before she could make out what it was, it vanished.

She took a deep breath and thought about Draco Malfoy. 'Expecto Patronum!' she said again.

Once more, the large animal emerged out of her wand tip and capered around her. Kitty gasped. It was a doe.

'Harry!' said Kitty rushing into the tent. Both Harry and Ron pulled out their wands, and jumped to their feet. Hermione woke up with a start.

'What?' said Harry, 'Is someone outside?'

'No, Harry,' said Kitty excitedly, 'I just managed to produce a Patronus!'

'Oh,' said Harry flopping back down on his bunk. 'I understand your excitement Kat. But you would have been able to do it sooner or…'

'No!' said Kitty loudly. Ron, Harry and Hermione looked at her surprised.

'Listen, Harry,' said Kitty, 'My Patronus was a doe!'

'What?' said Harry. 'But how can…show me!'

'Expecto Patronum!' said Kitty waving her wand once more. The doe sprang out of her wand once again.

'That's the one I saw!' exclaimed Harry and Ron.

'But, Kitty,' said Hermione, 'How could you have done it? You were inside the tent with me when Harry saw the doe, and besides, you have never conjured a Patronus before.'

'I know!' said Kitty, 'I was wondering that too. I did not conjure the Patronus. Someone else did, someone with the same Patronus as mine! Who can it be, but?'

'Harry,' said Hermione, 'Are you sure that you saw a doe just like Kitty's?'

'Positive,' said Harry.

'Yeah, I saw it too,' said Ron, 'That doe was just like Kitty's. In fact, if I had not known that Kitty had never produced a Patronus before, I would have said that the doe I saw _was_ Kitty's.'

'But, if someone has the same Patronus as mine, surely I know them,' said Kitty puzzled.

'You don't think it could be Malfoy?' said Ron uncomfortably, casting a furtive look at Harry.

'Why would Draco send us a Patronus?' said Kitty, 'He can talk to me anytime, through Vandyll's mirror. And besides, you forget that the doe led Harry to the sword. That means the person who cast the Patronus knew where the sword was. Draco couldn't have done it because he didn't know where the sword was. He doesn't even know we need the sword, or that Dumbledore left it to Harry in his will.'

'Then, who could it be?' said Harry frowning.

'Dunno,' said Hermione shaking her head.

Ron, after many nervous glances up at Hermione, took out a small wooden wireless out of his rucksack and started to try to tune it.

'There's this one program,' he told Harry and Kitty in a low voice, 'that tells the news like it really is. All the others are on You-Know-Who's side and are following the Ministry line, but this one... you wait till you hear it, it's great. Only they can't do it every night, they have to keep changing locations in case they're raided and you need a password to tune in... Trouble is, I missed the last one...'

He drummed lightly on the top of the radio with his wand muttering random words under his breath. He threw Hermione many covert glances, plainly fearing an angry outburst, but for all the notice she took of him he might not have been there. For ten minutes or so Ron tapped and muttered, Hermione turned the pages of her book, and Harry continued to practice with the blackthorn wand.

Finally Hermione climbed down from her bunk. Ron ceased his tapping at once.

'If it's annoying you, I'll stop!' he told Hermione nervously.

Hermione did not deign to respond, but approached Harry and Kitty.

'We need to talk,' she said.

Kitty looked at the book still clutched in her hand. It was _The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore_.

'What?' Harry said apprehensively. It flew through his mind that there was a chapter on him in there; he was not sure he felt up to hearing Rita's version of his relationship with Dumbledore. Hermione's answer however, was completely unexpected.

'I want to go and see Xenophilius Lovegood.'

Harry, Ron and Kitty stared at her.

'Sorry?'

'Xenophilius Lovegood, Luna's father. I want to go and talk to him!'

'Er… why?' said Kitty.

She took a deep breath, as though bracing herself, and said, 'It's that mark, the mark in Beedle the Bard. Look at this!'

She thrust _The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore_ under Harry's unwilling eyes and saw a photograph of the original letter that Dumbledore had written Grindelwald, with Dumbledore's familiar thin, slanting handwriting.

'The signature,' said Hermione. 'Look at the signature!'

Kitty looked more closely with the aid of her lit wand, she saw that Dumbledore had replaced the A of Albus with a tiny version of the same triangular mark inscribed upon _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_.

'Er…what are you…?" said Ron tentatively, but Hermione quelled him with a look and turned back to Harry and Kitty.

'It keeps cropping up, doesn't it?' she said. 'I know Viktor said it was Grindelwald's mark, but it was definitely on that old grave in Godric's Hollow, and the dates on the headstone were long before Grindelwald came along! And now this! Well, we can't ask Dumbledore or Grindelwald what it means…I don't even know whether Grindelwald's still alive, but we can ask Mr. Lovegood. He was wearing the symbol at the wedding. I'm sure this is important, Harry!'

'And what if we find ourselves betrayed like at Godric's Hollow?' said Harry.

'But it keeps appearing, Harry! Dumbledore left me The Tales of Beedle the Bard, how do you know we're not supposed to find out about the sign?'

'Here we go again!' Harry felt slightly exasperated. 'We keep trying to convince ourselves Dumbledore left us secret signs and clues…'

'The Deluminator turned out to be pretty useful,' piped up Ron. 'I think Hermione's right, I think we ought to go and see Lovegood.'

Kitty was quite sure that Ron's support of Hermione had little to do with a desire to know the meaning of the triangular rune.

'It won't be like Godric's Hollow,' Kitty added, 'Lovegood's on our side, Harry, The Quibbler's been for you all along, it keeps telling everyone they've got to help you!'

'I'm sure this is important!' said Hermione earnestly.

'But don't you think if it was, Dumbledore would have told me about it before he died?'

'Maybe... maybe it's something you need to find out for yourself,' said Hermione with a faint air of clutching at straws.

'Yeah,' said Ron sycophantically, 'that makes sense.'

'No, it doesn't,' snapped Hermione, 'but I still think we ought to talk to Mr. Lovegood. A symbol that links Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Godric's Hollow? Harry, I'm sure we ought to know about this!'

'I think we should vote on it,' said Ron. 'Those in favor of going to see Love good…'

His hand flew into the air before Hermione's. Her lips quivered suspiciously as she raised her own. Kitty raised her hand too, grinning.

'Outvoted, Harry, sorry,' said Ron, clapping him on the back.

'Fine,' said Harry, half amused, half irritated. 'Only, once we've seen Lovegood, let's try and look for some more Horcruxes, shall we? Where do the Lovegood's live, anyway? Do either of you know?'

'Yeah, they're not far from my place,' said Ron. 'I dunno exactly where, but Mum and Dad always point toward the hills whenever they mention them. Shouldn't be hard to find.'

When Hermione had returned to her bunk, Kitty lowered her voice.

'You only agreed to try and get back in her good books.'

'All's fair in love and war,' said Ron brightly, 'and this is a bit of both. Cheer up, it's the Christmas holidays, Luna'll be home!'

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	25. Chapter 25

Xenophilius Lovegood

**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP. Whenever I write these disclaimers, I get the feeling that I'm entering Grimmauld Place and saying, 'I did not kill you, Dumbledore!'

They had an excellent view of the village of Ottery St. Catchopole from the breezy hillside to which they Disapparated next morning. They stood for a minute or two looking toward the Burrow, their hands shadowing their eyes, but all they could make out were the high hedges and trees of the orchard, which afforded the crooked little house protection from Muggle eyes.

'It's weird, being this near, but not going to visit,' said Ron.

'Well, it's not like you haven't just seen them. You were there for Christmas,' said Hermione coldly.

'I wasn't at the Burrow!' said Ron with an incredulous laugh. 'Do you think I was going to go back there and tell them all I'd walked out on you? Yeah, Fred and George would've been great about it. And Ginny, she'd have been really understanding.'

'But where have you been, then?' asked Kitty, surprised.

'Bill and Fleur's new place. Shell cottage. Bill's always been decent to me. He…he wasn't impressed when he heard what I'd done, but he didn't go on about it. He knew I was really sorry. None of the rest of the family know I was there. Bill told Mum he and Fleur weren't going home for Christmas because they wanted to spend it alone. You know, first holiday after they were married. I don't think Fleur minded. You know how much she hates Celestina Warbeck.'

Ron turned his back on the Burrow.

'Let's try up here,' he said, leading the way over the top of the hill.

They walked for a few hours, Harry and Kitty, at Hermione's insistence, hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak. The cluster of low hills appeared to be uninhabited apart from one small cottage, which seemed deserted.

'Do you think it's theirs, and they've gone away for Christmas?' said Hermione, peering through the window at a neat little kitchen with geraniums on the windowsill. Ron snorted.

'Listen, I've got a feeling you'd be able to tell who lived there if you looked through the Lovegoods' window. Let's try the next lot of hills.'

So they Disapparated a few miles farther north.

'Aha!' shouted Ron, as the wind whipped their hair and clothes. Ron was pointing upward, toward the top of the hill on which they had appeared, where a most strange-looking house rose vertically against the sky, a great black cylinder with a ghostly moon hanging behind it in the afternoon sky. 'That's got to be Luna's house, who else would live in a place like that? It looks like a giant rook!'

'It's nothing like a bird,' said Kitty, frowning at the tower.

'I was talking about a chess rook,' said Ron. 'A castle to you.'

Ron's legs were the longest and he reached the top of the hill first. When Harry, Kitty and Hermione caught up with him, panting and clutching stitches in their sides, they found him grinning broadly.

'It's theirs,' said Ron. 'Look.'

Three hand-painted signs had been tacked to a broke-down gate. The first read,

_THE QUIBBLER. EDITOR, X. LOVEGOOD_  
the second,

_PICK YOUR OWN MISTLETOE_  
the third,  
_KEEP OFF THE DIRIGIBLE PLUMS_

Kitty giggled. The gate creaked as they opened it. The zigzagging path leading to the front door was overgrown with a variety of odd plants, including a bush covered in orange radishlike fruit Luna sometimes wore as earrings. Kitty thought he recognized a Snargaluff and gave the wizened stump a wide berth. Two aged crab apple trees, bent with the wind, stripped of leaves but still heavy with berry-sized red fruits and bushy crowns of white beaded mistletoe, stood sentinel on either side of the front door. A little owl with a slightly flattened hawklike head peered down at them from one of the branches.

'You'd better take off the Invisibility Cloak, Harry,' said Hermione. 'It's you Mr. Lovegood wants to help, not us.'

He did as she suggested, handing her the Cloak to stow in the beaded bag. She then rapped three times on the thick black door, which was studded with iron nails and bore a knocker shaped like an eagle.

Barely ten seconds passed, then the door was flung open and there stood Xenophilius Lovegood, barefoot and wearing what appeared to be a stained nightshirt.

'What? What is it? Who are you? What do you want?' he cried in a high-pitched, querulous voice, looking first at Hermione, then at Kitty, then at Ron, and finally at Harry, upon which his mouth fell open in a perfect, comical O.

'Hello, Mr. Lovegood,' said Harry, holding out his hand, 'I'm Harry, Harry Potter.'

Xenophilius did not take Harry's hand, although the eye that was not pointing inward at his nose slid straight to the scar on Harry's forehead.

'Would it be okay if we came in?' asked Harry. 'There's something we'd like to ask you.'

'I... I'm not sure that's advisable,' whispered Xenophilius, He swallowed and cast a quick look around the garden. 'Rather a shock... My word... I... I'm afraid I don't really think I ought to…'

'It won't take long,' said Kitty, slightly disappointed by this less-than-warm welcome.

'I…oh, all right then. Come in, quickly, Quickly!'

They were barely over the threshold when Xenophilius slammed the door shut behind them. They were standing in the most peculiar kitchen Kitty had ever seen. The room was perfectly circular, so that she felt like being inside a giant pepper pot. Everything was curved to fit the walls…the stove, the sink, and the cupboards and all of it had been painted with flowers, insects, and birds in bright primary colors. Kitty thought she recognized Luna's styles. In the middle of the floor, a wrought-iron spiral staircase led to the upper levels. There was a great deal of clattering and banging coming from overhead: Kitty wondered what Luna could be doing.

'You'd better come up,' said Xenophilius, still looking extremely uncomfortable, and he led the way.

The room above seemed to be a combination of living room and workplace, and as such, was even more cluttered than the kitchen. Though much smaller and entirely round, the room somewhat resembled the Room of Requirement on the unforgettable occasion that it had transformed itself into a gigantic labyrinth comprised of centuries of hidden objects. There were piles upon piles of books and papers on every surface. Delicately made models of creatures Kitty did not recognize, all flapping wings or snapping jaws, hung from the ceiling.

Luna was not there: The thing that was making such a racket was a wooden object covered in magically turning cogs and wheels, it looked like the bizarre offspring of a workbench and a set of shelves, but after a moment Kitty deduced that it was an old-fashioned printing press, due to the fact that it was churning out Quibblers.

'Excuse me,' said Xenophilius, and he strode over to the machine, seized grubbily tablecloth from beneath an immense number of books and papers, which all tumbled onto the floor, and threw it over the press, somewhat muffling the loud bangs and clatters. He then faced Harry.

'Why have you come here?' Before Harry could speak, however, Hermione let out a small cry of shock.

'Mr. Lovegood, what's that?'

She was pointing at an enormous, gray spiral horn, not unlike that of a unicorn, which had been mounted on the wall, protruding several feet into the room.

'It is the horn of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack,' said Xenophilius.

'No it isn't!' said Hermione.

'Hermione,' muttered Harry, embarrassed, 'now's not the moment…'

'But Harry, it's an Erumpent horn! It's a Class B Tradeable Material and it's an extraordinary dangerous thing to have in a house!'

'How'd you know it's an Erumpent horn?' asked Kitty, edging away from the horn as fast as she could, given the extreme clutter of the room.

'There's a description in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them! Mr. Lovegood, you need to get rid of it straightaway, don't you know it can explode at the slightest touch?'

'The Crumple Horned Snorkack,' said Xenophilius very clearly, a mulish look upon his face, 'is a shy and highly magical creature, and it's horn…'

'Mr. Lovegood. I recognize the grooved markings around the base, that's an Erumpent horn and it's incredibly dangerous…I don't know where you got it…'

'I bought it,' said Xenophilius dogmatically. 'Two weeks ago, from a delightful young wizard who knew my interest in the exquisite Snorkack. A Christmas surprise for my Luna. Now,' he said, turning to Harry, 'why exactly have you come here, Mr. Potter?'

'We need some help,' said Harry, before Hermione could start again.

'Ah,' said Xenophilius, 'Help, Hmm.'

His good eye moved again to Harry's scar. He seemed simultaneously terrified and mesmerized.

'Yes. The thing is... helping Harry Potter... rather dangerous...'

'Aren't you the one who keeps telling everyone it's their first duty to help Harry?' said Ron. 'In that magazine of yours?'

Xenophilius glanced behind him at the concealed printing press, still banging and clattering beneath the tablecloth.

'Er …yes, I have expressed that view. However…'

'That's for everyone else to do, not you personally?' said Ron.

Xenophilius did not answer. He kept swallowing, his eyes darting between the four of them. Harry had the impression that he was undergoing some painful internal struggle.

'Where's Luna?' asked Kitty. 'Let's see what she thinks.'

Xenophilius gulped. He seemed to be steeling himself. Finally he said in a shaky voice difficult to hear over the noise of the printing press, 'Luna is down at the stream, fishing for Freshwater Plimpies. She...she will like to see you. I'll go and call her and then…yes, very well. I shall try to help you.'

He disappeared down the spiral staircase and they heard the front open and close. They looked at each other.

'Cowardly old wart,' said Kitty. 'Luna's got ten times his guts.'

Ron nodded vigorously in agreement.

'He's probably worried about what'll happen to them if the Death Eaters find out I was here,' said Harry.

'Well, I agree with Ron and Kitty,' said Hermione, 'Awful old hypocrite, telling everyone else to help you and trying to worm out of it himself. And for heaven's sake keep away from that horn.'

They heard the front door close, and a moment later Xenophilius climbed back up the spiral staircase into the room, his thin legs now encased in Wellington boots, bearing a tray of ill-assorted teacups and a steaming teapot. Xenophilius strode back to the tea tray, which Hermione had managed to balance precariously on one of the cluttered side tables.

'May I offer you all an infusion of Gurdyroots?' said Xenophilius. 'We make it ourselves.' As he started to pour out the drink, which was as deeply purple as beetroot juice, he added, 'Luna is down beyond Bottom Bridge, she is most excited that you are here. She ought not to be too long, she has caught nearly enough Plimpies to make soup for all of us. Do sit down and help yourselves to sugar.'

'Now,' he said removing a tottering pile of papers from an armchair and sat down, his Wellingtoned legs crossed, 'how may I help you, Mr. Potter?'

'Well,' said Harry, glancing at Kitty, who nodded encouragingly, 'it's about that symbol you were wearing around your neck at Bill and Fleur's wedding, Mr. Lovegood. We wondered what it meant.'

Xenophilius raised his eyebrows.

'Are you referring to the sign of the Deathly Hallows?'


	26. Chapter 26

The Deathly Hallows

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

Harry turned to look at Kitty, Ron and Hermione. Neither of them seemed to have understood what Xenophilius had said either.

'The Deathly Hallows?'

'That's right,' said Xenophilius. 'You haven't heard of them? I'm not surprised. Very, very few wizards believe. Witness that knuckle-headed young man at your brother's wedding,' he nodded at Ron, 'who attacked me for sporting the symbol of a well-known Dark wizard! Such ignorance. There is nothing Dark about the Hallows…at least not in that crude sense. One simply uses the symbol to reveal oneself to other believers, in the hope that they might help one with the Quest.'

He stirred several lumps of sugar into his Gurdyroot infusion and drank some.

'I'm sorry,' said Harry, 'I still don't really understand.'

To be polite, Kitty took a sip from her cup too, and almost gagged: The stuff was quite disgusting, as though someone had liquidized bogey-flavored Every Flavor Beans.

'Well, you see, believers seek the Deathly Hallows,' said Xenophilius, smacking his lips in apparent appreciation of the Gurdyroot infusion.

'But what are the Deathly Hallows?' asked Hermione.

Xenophilius set aside his empty teacup.

'I assume that you are familiar with 'The Tale of the Three Brothers'?'

Harry and Kitty said, 'No,' but Ron and Hermione both said, 'Yes.' Xenophilius nodded gravely.

'Well, well, Mr. Potter, the whole thing starts with 'The Tale of the Three Brothers'... I have a copy somewhere...'

He glanced vaguely around the room, at the piles of parchment and books, but Hermione said, 'I've got a copy, Mr. Lovegood, I've got it right here.'

And she pulled out _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ from the small, beaded bag.

'The original?' inquired Xenophilius sharply, and when she nodded, he said, 'Well then, why don't you read it out aloud? Much the best way to make sure we all understand.'

'Er... all right,' said Hermione nervously. She opened the book, and Kitty saw that the symbol they were investigating headed the top of the page as she gave a little cough, and began to read.

_'There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight…'  
_  
'Midnight, our mum always told us,' said Ron, who had stretched out, arms behind his head, to listen. Hermione shot him a look of annoyance.

'Sorry, I just think it's a bit spookier if it's midnight!' said Ron.

'Yeah, because we really need a bit more fear in our lives,' said Harry before he could stop himself. Xenophilius did not seem to be paying much attention, but was staring out of the window at the sky. 'Go on, Hermione.'

_'In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across. However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water. They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure. And Death spoke to them…'_

'Sorry,' interjected Kitty, 'but Death spoke to them?'

'It's a fairy tale, Kitty!'

'Right, sorry. Go on.'

_'And Death spoke to them. He was angry that he had been cheated out of the three new victims, for travelers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic, and said that each had earned a prize for having been clever enough to evade him.'_

'So the oldest brother, who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence: a wand that must always win duels for its owner, a wand worthy of a wizard who had conquered Death! So Death crossed to an elder tree on the banks of the river, fashioned a wand from a branch that hung there, and gave it to the oldest brother.'

'Then the second brother, who was an arrogant man, decided that he wanted to humiliate Death still further, and asked for the power to recall others from Death. So Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and gave it to the second brother, and told him that the stone would have the power to bring back the dead.'

'And then Death asked the third and youngest brother what he would like. The youngest brother was the humblest and also the wisest of the brothers, and he did not trust Death. So he asked for something that would enable him to go forth from that place without being followed by Death. And Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility.'

'Death's got an Invisibility Cloak?' Harry interrupted.

'So he can sneak up on people,' said Ron. 'Sometimes he gets bored of running at them, flapping his arms and shrieking... sorry, Hermione.'

_'Then Death stood aside and allowed the three brothers to continue on their way, and they did so talking with wonder of the adventure they had had and admiring Death's gifts. In due course the brothers separated, each for his own destination.'_

'The first brother traveled on for a week more, and reaching a distant village, sought out a fellow wizard with whom he had a quarrel. Naturally, with the Elder Wand as his weapon, he could not fail to win the duel that followed. Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor the oldest brother proceeded to an inn, where he boasted loudly of the powerful wand he had snatched from Death himself, and of how it made him invincible.'

'That very night, another wizard crept upon the oldest brother as he lay, wine-sodden upon his bed. The thief took the wand and for good measure, slit the oldest brother's throat. And so Death took the first brother for his own.'  
  
_'Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his own home, where he lived alone. Here he took out the stone that had the power to recall the dead, and turned it thrice in his hand. To his amazement and his delight, the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her untimely death, appeared at once before him.'_

'Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him as by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, killed himself so as to truly join her. And so Death took the second brother from his own.'

'But though Death searched for the third brother for many years, he was never able to find him. It was only when he had attained a great age that the youngest brother finally took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. And the he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life.'

Hermione closed the book. It was a moment or two before Xenophilius seemed to realize that she had stopped reading; then he withdrew his gaze from the window and said: 'Well, there you are.'

'Sorry?' said Hermione, sounding confused.

'Those are the Deathly Hallows,' said Xenophilius.

He picked up a quill from a packed table at his elbow, and pulled a torn piece of parchment from between more books.

'The Elder Wand,' he said, and drew a straight vertical line upon the parchment. 'The Resurrection Stone,' he said, and added a circle on top of the line. 'The Cloak of Invisibility,' he finished, enclosing both line and circle in a triangle, to make the symbols that so intrigued Hermione. 'Together,' he said, 'the Deathly Hallows.'

'But there's no mention of the words 'Deathly Hallows' in the story,' said Kitty.

'Well, of course not,' said Xenophilius, maddeningly smug. 'That is a children's tale, told to amuse rather than to instruct. Those of us who understand these matters, however, recognize that the ancient story refers to three objects, or Hallows, which, if united, will make the possessor master of Death.'

There was a short silence in which Xenophilius glanced out of the window. Already the sun was low in the sky.

'Luna ought to have enough Plimpies soon,' he said quietly.

'When you say 'master of Death'…' said Ron.

'Master,' said Xenophilius, waving an airy hand. 'Conqueror. Vanquisher. Whichever term you prefer.'

'But then... do you mean...' said Kitty slowly, and Harry could tell that she was trying to keep any trace of skepticism out of her voice, 'that you believe these objects…these Hallows…really exist?'

Xenophilius raised his eyebrows again.

'Well, of course.'

'But,' said Kitty, and Harry could hear her restraint starting to crack, 'Mr. Lovegood, how can you possibly believe…'

'Luna has told me all about you, young lady,' said Xenophilius. 'You are, I gather, not unintelligent, but painfully limited. Narrow. Close-minded.'

'Mr. Lovegood,' began Hermione, 'We all know that there are such things as Invisibility Cloaks. They are rare, but they exist. But…'

'Ah, but the Third Hallow is a true Cloak of Invisibility, Miss Granger! I mean to say, it is not a traveling cloak imbued with a Disillusionment Charm, or carrying a Bedazzling Hex, or else woven from Demiguise hair, which will hide one initially but fade with the years until it turns opaque. We are talking about a cloak that really and truly renders the wearer completely invisible, and endures eternally, giving constant and impenetrable concealment, no matter what spells are cast at it. How many cloaks have you ever seen like that, Miss Granger?'

Hermione opened her mouth to answer, and then closed it again, looking more confused than ever. She, Kitty, Harry and Ron glanced at one another, and Kitty knew that they were all thinking the same thing. It so happened that a cloak exactly like the one Xenophilius had just described was in the room with them at that very moment.

'Exactly,' said Xenophilius, as if he had defeated them all in reasoned argument. 'None of you have ever seen such a thing. The possessor would be immeasurably rich, would he not?'

He glanced out of the window again. The sky was now tinged with the faintest trace of pink.

'All right,' said Kitty, disconcerted. 'Say the Cloak existed... what about that stone, Mr. Lovegood? The thing you call the Resurrection Stone?'

'What of it?'

'Well, how can that be real?'

'Prove that is not,' said Xenophilius.

Hermione looked outraged.

'But that's…I'm sorry, but that's completely ridiculous! How can I possibly prove it doesn't exist? Do you expect me to get hold of…of all the pebbles in the world and test them? I mean, you could claim that anything's real if the only basis for believing in it is that nobody's proved it doesn't exist!'

'Yes, you could,' said Xenophilius. 'I am glad to see that you are opening your mind a little.'

'So the Elder Wand,' said Harry quickly, before Kitty could retort, 'you think that exists too?'

'Oh, well, in that case there is endless evidence,' said Xenophilius. 'The Elder Wand is the Hallow that is most easily traced, because of the way in which it passes from hand to hand.'

'Which is what?' asked Harry.

'Which is that the possessor of the wand must capture it from its previous owner, if he is to be truly master of it,' said Xenophilius. 'Surely you have heard of the way the wand came to Egbert the Egregious, after his slaughter of Emeric the Evil? Of how Godelot died in his own cellar after his son, Hereward, took the wand from him? Of the dreadful Loxias, who took the wand from Baraabas Deverill, whom he had killed? The bloody trail of the Elder Wand is splattered across the pages of Wizarding history.'

Harry glanced at Hermione and Kitty. They were frowning at Xenophilius, but did not contradict him.

'So where do you think the Elder Wand is now?' asked Ron.

'Alas, who knows?' said Xenophilius, as he gazed out of the window. 'Who knows where the Elder Wand lies hidden? The trail goes cold with Arcus and Livius. Who can say which of them really defeated Loxias, and which took the wand? And who can say who may have defeated them? History, alas, does not tell us.'

There was a pause. Finally Hermione asked stiffly, 'Mr. Lovegood, does the Peverell family have anything to do with the Deathly Hallows?'

Xenophilius looked taken aback as something shifted in Harry's memory, but he could not locate it. Peverell... he had heard that name before...

'But you have been misleading me, young woman!' said Xenophilius, now sitting up much straighter in his chair and goggling at Hermione. 'I thought you were new to the Hallows Quest! Many of us Questers believe that the Peverells have everything…everything… to do with the Hallows!'

'Who are the Peverells?' asked Ron.

'That was the name on the grave with the mark on it, in Godric's Hollow,' said Hermione, still watching Xenophilius. 'Ignotus Peverell.'

'Exactly!' said Xenophilius, his forefinger raised pedantically. 'The sign of the Death Hallows on Ignotus's grave is conclusive proof!'

'Of what?' asked Ron.

'Why, that the three brothers in the story were actually the three Peverell brothers, Antioch, Cadmus and Ignotus! That they were the original owners of the Hallows!'

With another glance at the window he got to his feet, picked up the tray, and headed for the spiral staircase.

'You will stay for dinner?' he called, as he vanished downstairs again. 'Everybody always requests our recipe for Freshwater Plimply soup.'

'Probably to show the Poisoning Department at St. Mungo's,' said Ron under his breath.


	27. Chapter 27

What Kitty Did

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

Harry waited until they could hear Xenophilius moving about in the kitchen downstairs before speaking.

'What do you think?' he asked Kitty.

'Oh, Harry,' she said wearily, 'it's a pile of utter rubbish. This can't be what the sign really means. This must just be his weird take on it. What a waste of time.'

'I s'pose this is the man who brought us Crumple-Horned Snorkacks,' said Ron.

'You didn't believe it either?' Harry asked him.

'Nah, that story's just one of those things you tell kids to teach them lessons, isn't it? 'Don't go looking for trouble, don't go pick fights, don't go messing around with stuff that's best left alone! Just keep your head down, mind your own business, and you'll be okay. Come to think of it,' Ron added, 'maybe that story's why elder wands are supposed to be unlucky.'

'What are you talking about?'

'One of those superstitions, isn't it? 'May-born witches will marry Muggles.' 'Jinx by twilight, undone by midnight.' 'Wand of cider, never prosper.' You must have heard them. My mum's full of them.'

'Harry, Kitty and I were raised by Muggles,' Hermione reminded him. 'We were taught different superstitions. But, I think you're right. It's just a morality tale, it's obvious which gift is best, which one you'd choose…'

The four of them spoke at the same time: Hermione said, 'the Cloak,' Ron said, 'the wand,' and Harry and Kitty said, 'the stone.'

They looked at each other, half surprised, half amused.

'You're supposed to say the Cloak,' Ron told Hermione, 'but you wouldn't need to be invisible if you had the wand. An unbeatable wand, Hermione, come on!'

'We've already got an Invisibility Cloak,' said Harry.

'And it's helped us rather a lot, in case you hadn't noticed!' said Hermione. 'Whereas the wand would be bound to attract trouble…'

'Only if you shouted about it,' argued Ron. 'Only if you were prat enough to go dancing around waving it over your head, and singing, 'I've got an unbeatable want, come and have a go if you think you're hard enough.' As long as you kept your trap shut …'

'Yes, but could you keep your trap shut?' said Hermione, looking skeptical. 'You know the only true thing he said to us was that there have been stories about extra-powerful wands for hundreds of years.'

'There have?' asked Harry.

Hermione looked exasperated: The expression was so endearingly familiar that Harry, Kitty and Ron grinned at each other.

'The Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny, they crop up under different names through the centuries, usually in the possession of some Dark wizard who's boasting about them.'

Professor Binns mentioned some of them, but…oh it's all nonsense. Wands are only as powerful as the wizards who use them. Some wizards just like to boast that theirs are bigger and better than other people's…'

'But how do you know,' said Harry, 'that those wands…the Deathstick, and the Wand of Destiny aren't the same want, surfacing over the centuries under different names?'

'What if they're all really the Elder Wand, made by Death?' said Ron. Harry laughed: The strange idea that had occurred to him was after all, ridiculous. His wand, he reminded himself, had been of holly, not elder, and it had been made by Ollivander, whatever it had done that night Voldemort had pursued him across the skies and if it had been unbeatable, how could it have been broken?

'So why would you take the stone?' Ron asked him and Kitty.

'Well, if you could bring people back, we could have Sirius...Mad-Eye...Dumbledore...our parents...' said Kitty. Neither Ron nor Hermione answered.

'But according to Beedle the Bard, they wouldn't want to come back, would they?' said Harry, thinking about the tale they had just heard. 'I don't suppose there have been loads of other stories about a stone that can raise the dead, have there?' he asked Hermione.

'No,' she replied sadly. 'I don't think anyone except Mr. Lovegood could kid themselves that's possible. Beedle probably took the idea from the Philosopher's Stone; you know, instead of a stone to make you immortal, a stone to reverse death.'

The smell from the kitchen was getting stronger. It was something like burning underpants. Kitty wondered whether it would be possible to eat enough of whatever Xenophilius was cooking to spare his feelings.

'What about the Cloak, though?' said Ron slowly. 'Don't you realize, he's right? I've got so used to Harry's Cloak and how good it is, I never stopped to think. I've never heard of one like Harry's. It's infallible. We've never been spotted under it…'

'Of course not…we're invisible when we're under it, Ron!'

'But all the stuff he said about other cloaks, and they're not exactly ten a Knut, you know, is true! It's never occurred to me before but I've heard stuff about charms wearing off cloaks when they get old, or them being ripped apart by spells so they've got holes, Harry's was owned by his dad, so it's not exactly new, is it, but it's just... perfect!'

'Yes, all right, but Ron, the stone...'

As they argued in whispers, Harry moved around the room, only half listening. Reaching the spiral stair, he raised his eyes absently to the next level and was distracted at once. His own face was looking back at him from the ceiling of the room above. After a moment's bewilderment, he realized that it was not a mirror, but a painting. Curious, he began to climb the stairs. Kitty followed him.

'Harry, what are you doing? I don't think you should look around when he's not here!' said Hermione.

But Harry and Kitty had already reached the next level. Luna had decorated her bedroom ceiling with eight beautifully painted faces: Harry, Kitty, Vandyll, Dennis, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville. They were not moving as the portraits at Hogwarts moved, but there was a certain magic about them all the same. Kitty thought they breathed. What appeared to be a fine golden chains wove around the pictures linking them together, but after examining them for a minute or so, Kitty realized that the chains were actually one work repeated a thousand times in golden ink: friends... friends... friends...

She felt a great rush of affection for Luna. She looked around the room. There was a large photograph beside the bed, of a young Luna and a woman who looked very like her, the same woman Kitty had once seen in the form of Luna's Boggart in a DADA class. They were hugging. Luna looked rather better-groomed in this picture than Kitty had ever seen her in life. The picture was dusty. This struck Kitty as slightly odd. She stared around. Something was wrong. The pale blue carpet was also thick with dust. There were no clothes in the wardrobe, whose doors stood ajar. The bed had a cold, unfriendly look, as though it had not been slept in for weeks. A single cobweb stretched over the nearest window across the blood red sky. Kitty looked at Harry who frowned. She knew that he was thinking the exact same thing.

'What's wrong?' Hermione asked as Harry and Kitty descended the staircase, but before they could respond, Xenophilius reached the top of the stairs from the kitchen, now holding a tray laden with bowls.

'Mr. Lovegood,' said Kitty. 'Where's Luna?'

'Excuse me?'

'Where's Luna?'

Xenophilius halted on the top step.

'I…I've already told you. She is down at the Botions Bridge fishing for Plimpies.'

'So why have you only laid that tray for four?'

Xenophilius tried to speak, but no sound came out. The only noise was the continued chugging of the printing press, and a slight rattle from the tray as Xenophilius's hands shook.

'I don't think Luna's been here for weeks,' said Harry. 'Her clothes are gone, her bed hasn't been slept in. Where is she? And why do you keep looking out of the window?'

Xenophilius dropped the tray. The bowls bounced and smashed Harry, Kitty, Ron, and Hermione drew their wands. Xenophilius froze his hand about to enter his pocket. At that moment the printing press have a huge bank and numerous Quibblers came streaming across the floor from underneath the tablecloth, the press fell silent at last. Hermione stooped down and picked up one of the magazines, her wand still pointing at Mr. Lovegood.

'Harry, look at this.' He strode over to her as quickly as he could through all the clutter.

The front of the Quibbler carried his own picture, emblazoned with the words 'Undesirable Number One' and captioned with the reward money.

'The Quibbler's going for a new angle, then?' Harry asked coldly, his mind working very fast. 'Is that what you were doing when you went into the garden, Mr. Lovegood?'

Sending an owl to the Ministry?"

Xenophilius licked his lips. 'They took my Luna,' he whispered, 'Because of what I've been writing. They took my Luna and I don't know where she is, what they've done to her. But they might give her back to me if I…If I…'

Kitty paled.

'Hand over Harry?' Hermione finished for him.

'No deal,' said Ron flatly. 'Get out of the way, we're leaving.'

Xenophilius looked ghastly, a century old, his lips drawn back into a dreadful leer.

'They will be here any moment. I must save Luna. I cannot lose Luna. You must not leave.'

He spread his arms in front of the staircase, and Harry had a sudden vision of his mother doing the same thing in front of his crib.

'Don't make us hurt you,' Harry said. 'Get out of the way, Mr. Lovegood.'

Kitty was doing some fast thinking. On no account could she leave Luna with the Death Eaters. Who knew what they might be doing to her? She had to save Luna. She would've done the same for Kitty.

'HARRY!' Hermione screamed.

Figures on broomsticks were flying past the windows. As the four of them looked away from him. Xenophilius drew his wand. Harry realized their mistake just in time. He launched himself sideways, shoving Ron, Kitty and Hermione out of harm's way as Xenophilius's Stunning Spell soared across the room and hit the Erumpent horn.

There was a colossal explosion. The sound of it seemed to blow the room apart.

Fragments of wood and paper and rubble flew in all directions, along with an impenetrable cloud of thick white dust. Harry flew through the air, and then crashed to the floor, unable to see as debris rained upon him, his arms over his head. He heard Kitty's scream, Ron's yell, and a series of sickening metallic thuds which told him that Xenophilius had been blasted off his feet and fallen backward down the spiral stairs.

Half buried in rubble, Kitty tried to raise herself. She could barely breathe or see for dust.

Half of the ceiling had fall in and the end of Luna's bed was hanging through the hole.

A bust of Rowena Ravenclaw lay beside her with half its face missing fragments of torn parchment were floating through the air, and most of the printing press lay on its side, blocking the top of the staircase to the kitchen. Then another white shape moved close by, and Hermione, coated in dust like a second statue, press a finger to her lips.

The door downstairs crashed open.

'Didn't I tell you there was no need to hurry, Travers?' said a rough voice. 'Didn't I tell you this nutter was just raving as usual?' There was a bang and a scream of pain from Xenophilius.

'No...no...upstairs...Potter!'

'I told you last week Lovegood, we weren't coming back for anything less than some solid information! Remember last week? When you wanted to swap your daughter for that stupid bleeding headdress? And the week before.' Another bang, another squeal, 'When you thought we'd give her back if you offered us proof there are Cumple' BANG 'Headed'¨BANG 'Snorkacks?'

'No..no… I beg of you!' sobbed Xenophilius. 'It really is Potter, Really!'

'And now it turns out you only called us here to try and blow us up!' roared the Death Eater, and there was a volley of bangs interspersed with squeals of agony from Xenophilius.

'The place looks like it's about to fall in, Selwyn,' said a cool second voice, echoing up the mangled staircase. 'The stairs are completely blocked. Could try clearing it? Might bring the place down.'

'You lying piece of filth!' shouted the wizard named Selwyn.

'You have never seen Potter in your life, have you? Thought you'd lure us here to kill us, did you? And you think you'll get your girl back like this?'

'I swear...I swear...Potter's upstairs!'

'Homenum revelio!' said the voice at the foot of the stairs. Kitty heard Hermione gasp, and she had the odd sensation something was swooping low over her, immersing her body in its shadow.

'There's someone up there all right, Selwyn,' said the second man sharply.

'It's Potter, I tell you, it's Potter!' sobbed Xenophilius. 'Please...please...give me Luna, just let me have Luna...'

'You can have your little girl, Lovegood,' said Selwyn, 'if you get up those stairs and bring me down Harry Potter. But if this is a plot, if it's a trick, if you've got an accomplice waiting up there to ambush us, we'll see if we can spare a bit of your daughter for you to bury.'

Xenophilius gave a wail of fear and despair. There were scurryings and scrapings.

Xenophilius was trying to get through the debris on the stairs.

'Come on,' Harry whispered, 'we've got to get out of here.'

He started to dig himself out under cover of all the noise Xenophilius was making on the staircase. Ron was buried the deepest. Harry, Kitty and Hermione climbed, as quietly as they could, over all the wreckage to where he lay, trying to prise a heavy chest of drawers off his legs. While Xenophilius banging and scraping drew nearer and nearer, Hermione managed to free Ron with the use of a Hover Charm.

'All right,' breathed Hermione, as the broken printing press blocking the top of the stairs begin to tremble. Xenophilius was feet away from them. She was still white with dust.

'Do you trust me Harry?'

Harry nodded.

'Okay then,' Hermione whispered. 'give me the invisibility Cloak. Ron, you're going to put it on.'

'Me? But Harry…'

'Please, Ron! Harry, Kitty, hold on tight to my hand, Ron grab my shoulder.'

Harry held out his left hand. Kitty gripped Hermione's arm. Ron vanished beneath the Cloak. The printing press blocking the stairs was vibrating. Xenophilius was trying to shift it using a Hover Charm. Kitty did not know what Hermione was waiting for.

'Hold tight,' she whispered. 'Hold tight...any second...'

Xenophilius's paper-white face appeared over the top of the sideboard.

'Obliviate!' cried Hermione, pointing her want first into his face then at the floor beneath them. 'Deprimo!'

She had blasted a hole in the sitting room floor. They fell like boulders. Kitty still holding onto her arm for dear life, there was a scream from below, and she glimpsed two men trying to get out of the way as vast quantities of rubble and broken furniture rained all around them from the shattered ceiling.

'I'm sorry, Harry!' Kitty shouted over the noise as she let go of Hermione. Hermione twisted in midair and thundering of the collapsing house rang in Harry's ears as she dragged him once more into darkness.

Ron, Harry and Hermione had Disapparated.

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	28. Chapter 28

Malfoy Manor

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

'Oi! We've got one!' yelled Selwyn.

Kitty saw the two Death Eaters rush towards her and grab her. She made no effort to hide or run. One of them snatched her wand from her hand.

'Now, can I have Luna back?' said Xenophilius.

'You will, I suppose,' said Selwyn, 'However, I think the Dark Lord would like to wait until Potter comes to collect this one. And when he does, we will catch Potter and you can have your girl back.'

'What do we do with her?' said the other Death Eater. 'Shall we summon the Dark Lord here?'

'No,' said Selwyn, 'We'll take her to Malfoy Manor. The Dark Lord's using it as a base.'

'Alright,' said the other man, grabbing a fistful of Kitty's hair. Kitty winced in pain.

Both of them Disapparated, pulling Kitty along with them. Selwyn grabbed Kitty's arm and dragged her off along a country lane. Kitty thought she could see a pair of wrought iron gates at the foot of what looked like a long drive. How long would it take for Voldemort to get here, Kitty wondered.

Selwyn strode towards the gates, and shook the iron bars. The iron was contorting, twisting itself out of the abstract furls and coils into a frightening face, which spoke in a clanging, echoing voice. 'State your purpose!'

'We've got the Potter girl!' roared the other Death Eater triumphantly, 'We've captured Harry Potter's sister!'

The gates swung open. Kitty was shunted through the gates and into the drive, between the high hedges that muffled their footsteps. Kitty stumbled and was dragged onto her feet b Selwyn who pushed her up towards the entrance of the manor. Kitty saw Narcissa Malfoy scrutinizing her face.

'That's her, bring her in,' she said.

Selwyn shoved Kitty up the broad stone steps and into a hallway lined with portraits. The drawing room dazzled after the darkness outside; even with her eyes almost closed Kitty could make out the wide proportions of the room. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, more portraits against the dark purple walls. Two figures rose from chairs in front of an ornate marble fireplace as Kitty was forced into the room by Selwyn.

'What is this?' the dreadfully familiar cold, drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy fell on Kitty's ears.

'Potter's sister,' announced Selwyn.

'Why, I've had the pleasure of meeting her at the Ministry,' said a woman's cold voice from behind Lucius, and Kitty saw Bellatrix Lestrange step forward.

Just at that moment, someone burst into the room, saying, 'Father!'

Kitty's stomach lurched. It was Draco.

He took one look at her, and turned to his father who said, 'Well, if we are the ones to hand her over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiven.'

'Now, Lucius, don't forget that we were the ones who caught her,' said Selwyn.

'Take her to the cellar,' said Bellatrix. Kitty was forced down a steep flight of stairs. At the bottom was a heavy door. Selwyn unlocked it with a tap of his wand, and then forced her into a dark and musty room and left her in total darkness. The echoing bang of the slammed cellar door had not died away before Kitty flung herself on the door, banging and shouting.

'Kitty?' came a whisper through the darkness, 'Is that you?'

Kitty stopped shouting at once.

'Luna?' she said, 'it's me, Kitty.'

Kitty saw a shadow moving closer. Kitty moved forward and hugged Luna.

'Luna! What did they do to you?' she said.

'Nothing,' she said, 'I'm alright. But how come you're here? And where's Harry?'

Kitty told her everything.

'Why'd you do that, Kitty?' said Luna.

But before Kitty could answer, they heard footsteps outside the door. The door flew open, and a towering figure entered. It was Lord Voldemort.

Instinctively, Kitty and Luna backed away. Voldemort waved his wand and the room lit itself. Then he advanced towards the two girls. He pointed his wand at Luna first, who was slammed into the wall at the back. She fell down, unconscious.

Fear filled Kitty as Voldemort turned towards her, but she tried her hardest not to let her feelings come on her face.

Voldemort raised his wand and said in barely more than a whisper, 'Kitty Potter.'

Kitty gulped.

'I can't tell you how pleased I am to see you. I have been wanting to see you ever since you smashed my prophecy,' continued Voldemort, staring at her with his red snake like eyes. 'Now, I am giving you the chance of telling me where your brother is. Where is Harry Potter?'

'I—I don't know,' said Kitty truthfully. She did not know where they had Disapparated off to.

'Legilimens!' said Voldemort, his eyes boring into Kitty's. Kitty immediately closed her mind, and emptied it of all thoughts and emotions.

'Not a bad Occlumens, I see,' said Voldemort softly. 'Still, I have other ways of persuading you. I give you one more chance of telling me where Harry Potter is.'

'I told you I don't know! They Disapparated and your dogs caught me! How should I know?' shouted Kitty, sounding braver than she felt.

'Crucio!' shouted Voldemort.

Agonising pain filled Kitty once more, and she fell to the floor writhing and screaming.

'Do you need more persuading?' whispered Voldemort, lifting the curse off her. 'Where is Potter?'

'I…I…don't know,' said Kitty.

'Fine,' said Voldemort, 'then perhaps you will tell me where that locket I saw you wearing is?

'It's with Harry,' said Kitty.

'How did you get it?' said Voldemort, clenching his deathly pale fingers around his wand.

'I—Dumbledore gave it to Harry,' said Kitty.

'You know what, I think you're lying girl,' whispered Voldemort, 'Tell the truth!'

'Dumbledore gave it to Harry,' Kitty repeated.

'Perhaps another taste of pain,' said Voldemort, 'Crucio!'

The familiar sense of pain shot through Kitty's body, but before she knew it, Voldemort had lifted the curse.

'Why has Potter not come to get you till now?' said Voldemort.

'Maybe, he doesn't know where I am,' gasped Kitty.

'He does know,' said Voldemort, 'I repeat, where is Harry Potter? Tell me or I'll give you to the werewolves!'

'You've got drool on your chin, did you know?' said Kitty.

'CRUCIO!'

Kitty screamed and writhed on the floor for what seemed like hours to her. When Voldemort lifted the curse, she opened her eyes to see him towering above her.

'Tell me where Potter is, I just might spare you!'

'L—looks like y—you'll have to kill me then,' said Kitty.

Kitty could feel Voldemort's fury. He waved his wand again. Several images filled Kitty's mind at once. Harry was dead, she was weeping over his body…Draco lay dead beside him…her parents were being tortured by Voldemort…Tonks and Remus were lying dead, a small baby lay beside them crying…

'See what I can do?' said Voldemort turning to leave, 'Its time to refresh your memory. Think where he can be, girl. Give me an answer when I return, or else…'

Voldemort strode out of the door. Kitty crawled towards the wall where Luna lay, still unconscious, and tried to shake her. A few seconds later, the door burst open for a second time. Someone rushed towards her, and hoisted her into his arms.

'Harry?' Kitty said, her vision blurry.

'It's me,' said Draco's voice, as he conjured a chair with his wand and put her on it.

'D—Draco!' said Kitty weakly.

'What happened?' said Draco, 'How come you're here?'

'I came to –to g—get Luna,' said Kitty.

'Where's Potter?' said Draco.

'I dunno,' said Kitty, gripping Draco tightly.

'What did he say? The Dark Lord?' said Draco.

'N-not much,' whispered Kitty, 'Used his w-wand on me mostly.'

Draco hugged her and said, 'Did you tell him where Potter is?'

'N—no,' said Kitty, 'Draco, stay here.'

'I'm here,' said Draco kissing her lips. 'I won't leave you.'

'D—Draco, is there any way we can contact Harry?' said Kitty.

'I don't think so,' said Draco gently, 'He'll know…someone's coming.'

Back in the Forest, Ron, Hermione and Harry were arguing.

'We have to go rescue her!' shouted Harry.

'We will, Harry,' said Hermione, 'let's just think of a plan.'

'Plan!' roared Harry, 'the plan is to rescue Kat!'

'I've had enough,' said Harry, 'I'm going now!'

'But how,' said Hermione, 'We don't even know where she is!'

'I TOLD YOU I SAW HER IN MALFOY MANOR! I SAW HIM TORTURING HER!' bellowed Harry.

'Okay,' said Ron, 'let's say she's at the Malfoy Manor, but how are we going to get there?'

'Voldemort!' said Harry loudly.

The Sneakoscope on the table had lit up and begun to spin; they could hear voices coming nearer and nearer: rough, excited voices.

'Come out of there with your hands up!' came a rasping voice through the darkness. 'We know you're in there! You've got half a dozen wands pointing at you and we don't care who we curse!'

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	29. Chapter 29

To Shell Cottage

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

Kitty was waiting in the cellar with Luna, both of them thinking of plans to get away, when the door burst open. Kitty and Luna stood up at once, fearing that it was Voldemort once more. But it was Lucius Malfoy, with three more prisoners, who were tightly bound.

'Harry!' she yelled rushing towards them.

'Quiet, girl!' shouted Malfoy waving his wand, and Kitty flew backwards. She saw Malfoy dump the three prisoners onto the floor. They were Dean Thomas, Ollivander and Griphook, the goblin.

She got to her feet, and launched herself at Malfoy, punching him. Malfoy waved his wand, and she was blown backwards again. Lucius Malfoy slammed the door and Kitty heard his footsteps climbing up the stairs.

'Dean!' she cried, and both she and Luna rushed towards them, and tried to take off their ropes.

The door banged open a second time. Kitty got to her feet. It was Draco, this came towards them, and waved his wand. Dean, Ollivander and Griphook froze, with their eyes shut.

'What did you do?' said Kitty.

'Shh!' said Draco and waved his wand again. A tray of food appeared.

'Listen, Kitty,' said Draco, 'I've got your wand with me. Here take it.'

He held out Kitty's wand.

'Sorry er…Lovegood…' said Draco.

'Luna,' said Luna dreamily.

'Okay, Luna,' said Draco, 'Luna, I'm sorry, but I don't have your wand. That's with Bellatrix.'

'It's okay, Draco,' said Luna.

'And, one more thing,' said Draco, 'I've heard that they've caught Potter and his friends.'

'They have?' said Kitty.

'Apparently, he gave himself up, so that he could come rescue you,' continued Draco, 'They'll be here any minute. Now, as much as I know my father and Bellatrix, she's going to torture either Potter, or Weasley or Granger until the Dark Lord is summoned. I reckon it'll be Granger, 'cause she's a Mudblood.'

'Don't call her that,' said Luna indignantly.

'Sorry, its just a habit I've slipped into,' said Draco, 'Anyway, while they're torturing the Granger, they'll probably put Potter and Weasley down here with you guys. There is one way to escape. Ask Potter to summon Dobby or Kreacher. They can disapparate out of this house. Then Potter, Weasley, Luna and you can escape along with these three,' he pointed at Dean, Ollivander and Griphook.

'Harry'd never do it,' said Kitty immediately, 'Nor would Ron. They'd never leave Hermione.'

'But can't you see that Potter mustn't get caught!' said Draco impatiently, 'Granger will be in my house. I'll see that they don't kill her. But Potter must escape. He's our one chance to defeat the Dark Lord and restore peace.'

'I know,' said Kitty, 'But we're taking Hermione with us.'

Draco opened his mouth to argue, when they came a voice from above.

'Draco, come up here!'

'I have to go!' said Draco, running back to the door, waving his wand at the frozen prisoners.

Dean, Ollivander and Griphook opened their eye, looking confused. Kitty went to the door, and pressed her ear to the door to listen at what was happening above. She heard voices.

'They say they've got Potter,' said Narcissa's cold voice. 'Draco, come here.'

There was silence for a few moments.

'Well, boy,' came the raspy voice of Fenrir Greyback.

'Well, Draco?' said Lucius Malfoy. He sounded avid. 'Is it? Is it Harry Potter?'

'I can't…I can't be sure,' said Draco.

'But look at him carefully, look! Come closer!'

Kitty had never heard Lucius Malfoy so excited.

'What did you do to him?' Lucius asked, 'How did he get into this state?'

'That wasn't us,' said Greyback.

'Looks more like a Stinging Jinx to me,' said Lucius. 'There's something there…it could be the scar, stretched tight...'

'Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?'

'I don't know,' Draco said.

'We had better be certain, Lucius,' Narcissa called to her husband in her cold, clear voice. 'Completely sure that it is Potter, before we summon the Dark Lord... If we are mistaken, if we call the Dark Lord here for nothing... Remember what he did to Rowle and Dolohov?'

'What about the Mudblood, then?' growled Greyback.

'Wait,' said Narcissa sharply. 'Yes…yes, she was in Madam Malkin's with Potter! I saw her picture in the Prophet! Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?'

'I... maybe... yeah.'

'But then, that's the Weasley boy!' shouted Lucius, 'It's them, Potter's friends…Draco, look at him, isn't it Arthur Weasley's son, what's his name…'

'Yeah,' said Draco again, his back to the prisoners. 'It could be.'

'What is this? What's happened, Cissy?' came Bellatrix's voice.

'Yes, yes, it's Granger!' cried Lucius, 'And beside her, we think, Potter! Potter and his friends, caught at last!'

'Potter?' shrieked Bellatrix. 'Are you sure? Well then, the Dark Lord must be informed at once!'  
'I was about to call him!' said Lucius, 'I shall summon him, Bella. Potter has been brought to my house, and it is therefore upon my authority…'

'Your authority!' she sneered, 'You lost your authority when you lost your wand, Lucius! How dare you! Take your hands off me!'

'This is nothing to do with you, you did not capture the boy…'

'Begging your pardon, Mr. Malfoy,' interjected Greyback, 'but it's us that caught Potter, and it's us that'll be claiming the gold…'

'Gold!' laughed Bellatrix, 'Take your gold, filthy scavenger, what do I want with gold? I seek only the honor of his…of…'

She stopped speaking. There was silence for a few seconds.

'STOP!' shrieked Bellatrix suddenly, 'Do not touch it, we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now! What is that?'

'Sword,' grunted an unknown voice.

'Give it to me.'

'It's not yours, missus, it's mine, I reckon I found it.'

There was a loud bang.

'What d'you think you're playing at, woman?'

'Stupefy!' she screamed, 'Stupefy!'

'Where did you get this sword?' she whispered.

'How dare you?' Greyback snarled, 'Release me, woman!'

'Where did you find this sword?' she repeated, brandishing it in his face, 'Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts!'

'It was in their tent,' rasped Greyback. 'Release me, I say!'

'Draco, move this scum outside,' said Bellatrix, 'If you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me.'

'Don't you dare speak to Draco like…' said Narcissa furiously, but Bellatrix screamed.

'Be quiet! The situation is graver than you can possibly imagine, Cissy! We have a very serious problem! If it is indeed Potter, he must not be harmed,' Bellatrix muttered, more to herself than to the others. 'The Dark Lord wishes to dispose of Potter himself... But if he finds out... I must... I must know...'

'The prisoners must be placed in the cellar, while I think what to do!'

'This is my house, Bella, you don't give orders in my…'

'Do it! You have no idea of the danger we're in!' shrieked Bellatrix.

'Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback,' said Narcissa.

'Wait,' said Bellatrix sharply. 'All except... except for the Mudblood.'

Greyback gave a grunt of pleasure.

'No!' shouted Ron. 'You can have me, keep me!'

Bellatrix hit him across the face: the blow echoed around the room.

'If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next,' she said. 'Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book. Take them downstairs, Greyback, and make sure they are secure, but do nothing more to them…yet.'

Kitty heard footsteps coming down the stairs. She backed away from the door and hid behind a pillar, waiting for them to enter.

'Reckon she'll let me have a bit of the girl when she's finished with her?' Greyback crooned as he forced them along the corridor. 'I'd say I'll get a bite or two, wouldn't you, ginger?'

The door banged open, and Greyback entered with Harry and Ron. He threw them to the floor, and slammed the door shut.

'HERMIONE!' Ron bellowed, and he started to writhe and struggle against the ropes tying them together, so that Harry staggered. 'HERMIONE!'

'Be quiet!' Harry said. 'Shut up. Ron, we need to work out a way…'

Kitty and Luna ran towards them.

'Harry!' Kitty cried, flinging herself on him.

'Kat!' said Harry, 'You're okay? Did they torture you?'

'We'll talk of that later, Harry,' said Kitty untying Harry and Ron, with a flick of her wand.

'How come you've got your…'

'No time to explain,' said Kitty, 'Listen Harry, summon Dobby now!'

'What?'

'Just do it!' said Kitty impatiently.

'Dobby!' said Harry, feeling extremely foolish.

Hermione screamed from overhead, and they could hear Bellatrix screaming too, but her words were inaudible, for Ron shouted again, 'HERMIONE! HERMIONE!'

'I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? Where?'

'We found it…we found it…PLEASE!' Hermione screamed again.

'You're lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!'

Another terrible scream…

'HERMIONE!'

'What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife! Answer me! CRUCIO!'

Hermione's screams echoed off the walls upstairs, Ron was half sobbing as he pounded the walls with his fists.

There was a loud crack, and Dobby, the house elf appeared.

'How did you get into my vault?' they heard Bellatrix scream. 'Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?'

'We only met him tonight!' Hermione sobbed. 'We've never been inside your vault... It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!'

'A copy?' screeched Bellatrix. 'Oh, a likely story!'

'But we can find out easily!' came Lucius's voice. 'Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!'

The door of the cellar slammed open, and Draco entered the room.

'You must lie, Griphook!' whispered Draco, as he pulled the goblin to its feet, 'tell them that the sword is a fake!'

Harry and Ron were staring at him. He glared at them for a moment, and then said, 'Potter, go with the house elf! Get her out of here!' he pointed at Kitty.

The door slammed as Draco and Griphook left the cellar.

'Harry Potter,' Dobby squeaked in the tiniest quiver of a voice, 'You called Dobby?'

'Dobby,' said Kitty, before Harry could speak, 'You must get us out of here! Take Luna, Ollivander, Dean, one at a time and disapparate.'

'Where is it I should go, Kitty Potter?' said Dobby nodding.

'Bill and Fleur's,' said Ron. 'Shell Cottage on the outskirts of Tinworth!'

The elf nodded for a third time.

'You will take Kitty with you too,' said Harry.

'I'm staying with you,' said Kitty outrageously.

'No, you aren't. Malfoy said to get you out of here!' said Harry.

'What do you care? You don't even accept him as my boyfriend,' said Kitty.

'Shut up!' said Harry, 'you've caused enough problems as it is! Now, for once, you're going to do exactly as I say!'

Kitty looked ready to argue, but then Harry said in a softer voice, 'I'll be right behind you, I promise, Kitty.'

'Alright,' said Kitty sullenly, 'but, take my wand, Harry. You haven't got yours.'

'Okay,' said Harry taking her wand, 'After you've taken them, Dobby, I want you to come back.'

'Yes, Harry Potter!' said Dobby holding out his tiny hands.

Dean, Luna, Kitty and Ollivander each caught one of Dobby's outstretched fingers, and Disapparated.

A second later, they hit solid earth, and smelled salty air. Kitty squinted through the darkness. There seemed to be a cottage a short way away under the wide starry sky, and he thought he saw movement outside it.

With another crack, Dobby dispparated. Kitty, Luna, Dean and Ollivander made their way to the cottage.

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	30. Chapter 30

A Talk with Griphook

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

Kitty walked up to the front door of the cottage and knocked. A few seconds later, Bill opened the door.

'Kitty!' he exclaimed, 'what're you doing here? Where's Harry?'

'Can we come in?' said Kitty, 'I'll explain everything.'

Bill ushered the four of them inside. Fleur was just as surprised as Bill to see them. Kitty told them what had happened, and how they had got away.

'Why's Harry not coming?' she said, getting up and pacing round the room.

'He'll be here, Kitty,' said Luna.

After about ten minutes, Kitty heard a loud crack outside. She pushed open the door of the cottage and flew outside.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Griphook were back. Harry was kneeling on the ground, cradling something in his arms.

'Dobby!' Kitty cried, 'what's happened? He's not…'

'Kat, just help Ron take Hermione inside. She's not in a good state,' said Harry.

Kitty and Ron half carried Hermione back to the cottage, and laid her down on the sofa in the living room.

Kitty rushed back outside.

'I'm going to bury him,' said Harry, 'I want to do it properly. Not by magic.'

And shortly afterward he had set to work alone, digging the grave in the place that Bill had shown him at the end of the garden, between bushes. He dug with a kind of fury, relishing the manual work, glorying in the non-magic of it, for every drop of his sweat and every blister felt like a gift to the elf that had saved their lives.

In the evening, they were all sitting in the living room, when Harry entered.

'Lucky that Ginny's on holiday,' said Bill, 'If she'd been at Hogwarts they could have taken her before we reached her. Now we know she's safe too. I've been getting them all out of the Burrow. Moved them to Muriel's. The Death Eaters know Ron's with you now, they're bound to target the family.'

'How are they protected?' asked Harry. 'Fidelius Charm. Dad's Secret-Keeper. And we've done it on this cottage too; I'm Secret-Keeper here. None of us can go to work, but that's hardly the most important thing now. Once Ollivander and Griphook are well enough, we'll move them to Muriel's too. There isn't much room here, but she's got plenty. Griphook's legs are on the mend. Fleur's given him Skele-Growe could probably move them in an hour or…'

'No,' Harry said and Bill looked startled. 'I need both of them here. I need to talk to them. It's important.' All of their faces were turned toward him looking puzzled.

'I'm going to wash,' Harry told Bill looking down at his hands still covered with mud and Dobby's blood. 'Then I'll need to see them, straight away.' He walked into the little kitchen, to the basin beneath a window overlooking the sea. Dawn was breaking over the horizon, shell pink and faintly gold, as he washed, again following the train of thought that had come to him in the dark garden...

'Harry?' said Kitty tentatively, as she entered the kitchen, 'I—I'm sorry.'

Harry strode over to her and slapped her on the cheek.

'It was all my fault,' said Kitty.

'You're right, it was,' said Harry coldly, 'It was all because of you that Dobby's dead, and Ron was seen and now the Death Eaters after the Weasleys. On top of that, Hermione was tortured.'

'I'm sorry,' said Kitty again, tears falling down her cheeks, 'But they'd got Luna and…and…'

'So?' said Harry angrily, 'it's not that you got there and managed to save her, we had to do that.'

'What would you have done if it was Ron or Hermione?' said Kitty, still crying.

Harry didn't answer. He walked up to her, and hugged her tightly, saying, 'Its okay, Kat.'

Kitty continued sobbing.

'What did they do to you?' said Harry, fearing the worst.

'You Know Who crucioed me mostly,' said Kitty, 'he wanted to know where you were, and how we got the locket. I didn't tell him that it was destroyed of course. So he used Legilimency on me, but I managed to shut him out, so he tortured me.'

'So, how come you're all right?' said Harry, 'They tortured Hermione too, but she's all weak. How come you're okay?'

'Be—because Draco did something,' said Kitty, 'I don't know, he mixed a potion in my food, I know, I could smell it even if he didn't tell me. I think it was a Strengthening Solution. He got me my wand too. And—and he was the one who gave me the idea of summoning D—Dobby.'

Harry didn't answer.

'Have you forgiven me?' asked Kitty, looking at him.

'Yeah,' said Harry, 'Just don't ever do that again.'

Kitty nodded and said, 'How did you get away?'

'Well, Wormtail came to see what had happened, when Dobby Disapparated. So Ron and I overpowered him and took his wand. Griphook did as Malfoy had asked him to,' said Harry, 'he told Bellatrix that the sword was a fake. She touched her Dark Mark to call him, and we rushed into the room, and disarmed Greyback, Narcissa, and Lucius Malfoy. I had to disarm Draco too, so that it would not seem suspicious. And then Bellatrix was going to kill Hermione, so we had to drop our wands. Malfoy picked them up, and then Dobby dropped a chandelier on Bellatrix. Draco threw us our wands in the commotion, and we grabbed Hermione and Griphook and Disapparated with Dobby. Bellatrix threw a knife at us just when we were Disapparating, and it hit Dobby.'

Kitty kept silent.

'Oh, and here's your wand,' said Harry, throwing it to her. Kitty caught it, and tucked it in her jeans pocket.

'Come, we have to speak with Ollivander and Griphook,' said Harry, going back to the living room. Kitty followed him.

'Harry, what the hell's going on?' asked Bill. 'You turn up here with a dead house-elf and a half-conscious goblin, Hermione looks as though she's been tortured, and Ron's just refused to tell me anything…'

'We can't tell you what we're doing,' said Harry flatly. 'You're in the Order, Bill, you know Dumbledore left us a mission. We're not supposed to talk about it to anyone else.'

Fleur made an impatient noise, but Bill did not look at her; he was staring at Harry. His deeply scarred face was hard to read. Finally, Bill said, 'All right. Who do you want to talk to first?'

'Griphook,' said Harry, 'And I'll need you two there,' he added to Ron and Hermione.

Harry, Kitty, Ron, and Hermione followed Bill up the steep stairs onto a small landing. Three doors led off it.

'In here,' said Bill, opening the door into his and Fleur's room. Harry moved to the window, turned his back on the spectacular view, and waited, his arms folded, his scar prickling. Hermione took the chair beside the dressing table; Ron sat on the arm. Kitty stood by Harry's side.

Bill reappeared, carrying the little goblin, whom he set down carefully upon the bed. Griphook grunted thanks, and Bill left, closing the door upon them all.

'I'm sorry to take you out of bed,' said Harry. 'How are your legs?'

'Painful,' replied the goblin. 'But mending.'

He was still clutching the sword of Gryffindor, and wore a strange look: half truculent, half intrigued.

'You probably don't remember…' Harry began.

'…that I was the goblin who showed you to your vault, the first time you ever visited Gringotts?' said Griphook. 'I remember, Harry Potter. Even amongst goblins, you are very famous.'

Harry and the goblin looked at each other, sizing each other up. Harry's scar was still prickling. He wanted to get through this interview with Griphook quickly, and at the same time was afraid of making a false move. While he tried to decide on the best way to approach his request, the goblin broke the silence.

'You buried the elf,' he said, sounding unexpectedly rancorous. 'I watched you from the window of the bedroom next door.'

'Yes,' said Harry.

Griphook looked at him out of the corners of his slanting black eyes.

'You are an unusual wizard, Harry Potter.'

'In what way?' asked Harry, rubbing his scar absently.

'You dug the grave.'

'So?'

Griphook did not answer. Kitty rather thought Harry was being sneered at for acting like a Muggle, but it did not matter to her whether Griphook approved of Dobby's grave or not.

'Griphook, I need to ask…' began Harry.

'You also rescued a goblin.'

'What?'

'You brought me here. Saved me.'

'Well, I take it you're not sorry?' said Harry a little impatiently.

'No, Harry Potter,' said Griphook, and with one finger he twisted the thin black beard upon his chin, 'but you are a very odd wizard.'

'Right,' said Harry. 'Well, I need some help, Griphook, and you can give it to me.'

The goblin made no sign of encouragement, but continued to frown at Harry as though he had never seen anything like him.

'I need to break into a Gringotts vault.'

Ron and Hermione were staring at Harry as though he had gone mad. Kitty however was frowning, and seemed to be deep in thought.

'Harry…' said Hermione, but she was cut off by Griphook.

'Break into a Gringotts vault?' repeated the goblin, wincing a little as he shifted his position upon the bed. 'It is impossible.'

'No, it isn't,' Kitty contradicted him. 'It's been done.'

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'The same day I first met you, Griphook. My birthday, seven years ago.'

'The vault in question was empty at the time,' snapped the goblin, and Harry understood that even though Griphook had let Gringotts, he was offended at the idea of its defenses being breached. 'Its protection was minimal.'

'Well, the vault we need to get into isn't empty, and I'm guessing its protection will be pretty powerful,' said Harry. 'It belongs to the Lestranges.'

He saw Hermione and Ron look at each other, astonished, but there would be time enough to explain after Griphook had given his answer.

'You have no chance,' said Griphook flatly. 'No chance at all. If you seek beneath our floors, a treasure that was never yours…'

'Thief, you have been warned, beware…yeah, I know, I remember,' said Harry. 'But I'm not trying to get myself any treasure, I'm not trying to take anything for personal gain. Can you believe that?'

The goblin looked slantwise at Harry, and the lightning scar on Harry's forehead prickled, but he ignored it, refusing to acknowledge its pain or its invitation.

'If there was a wizard of whom I would believe that they did not seek personal gain,' said Griphook finally, 'it would be you, Harry Potter. Goblins and elves are not used to the protection or the respect that you have shown this night. Not from wand-carriers.'

'Wand-carriers,' repeated Harry as he burned to question Ollivander next door.

'The right to carry a wand,' said the goblin quietly, 'has long been contested between wizards and goblins.'

'Well, goblins can do magic without wands,' said Ron.

'That is immaterial! Wizards refuse to share the secrets of wand-lore with other magical beings, they deny us the possibility of extending our powers!'

'Well, goblins won't share any of their magic either,' said Ron. 'You won't tell us how to make swords and armor the way you do. Goblins know how to work metal in a way wizards have never …'

'It doesn't matter,' said Kitty, noting Griphook's rising color. 'This isn't about wizards versus goblins or any other sort of magical creature…'

Griphook gave a nasty laugh.

'But it is, it is precisely that! As the Dark Lord becomes ever more powerful, your race is set still more firmly above mine! Gringotts falls under Wizarding rule, house-elves are slaughtered, and who amongst the wand-carriers protests?'

'We do!' said Hermione. She had sat up straight, her eyes bright. 'We protest! And I'm hunted quite as much as any goblin or elf, Griphook! I'm a Mudblood!'

'Don't call yourself…' Ron muttered.

'Why shouldn't I?' said Hermione. 'Mudblood, and proud of it! I've got no higher position under this new order than you have, Griphook! It was me they chose to torture, back at the Malfoys!'

As she spoke, she pulled aside the neck of the dressing gown to reveal a thin cut Bellatrix had made, scarlet against her throat.

'Did you know that it was Harry who set Dobby free?' she asked. 'Did you know that we've wanted elves to be freed for years?' (Ron fidgeted uncomfortably on the arm of Hermione's chair.) 'You can't want You-Know-Who defeated more than we do, Griphook!'

The goblin gazed at Hermione with the same curiousity he had shown Harry.

'What do you seek within the Lestranges' vault?' he asked abruptly. 'The sword that lies inside it is a fake. This is the real one.' He looked from one to the other of them. 'I think that you already know this. The Malfoy boy asked me to lie for you back there.'

'But the fake sword isn't the only thing in that vault, is it?' asked Kitty. 'Perhaps you've seen other things in there?'

'It is against our code to speak of the secrets of Gringotts. We are the guardians of fabulous treasures. We have a duty to the objects placed in our care, which were, so often, wrought by our fingers,' said Griphook.

The goblin stroked the sword, and his black eyes roved from Harry to Kitty to Hermione to Ron and then back again.

'So young,' he said finally, 'to be fighting so many.'

'Will you help us?' said Harry. 'We haven't got a hope of breaking in without a goblin's help. You're our one chance.'

'I shall... think about it,' said Griphook maddeningly.

'But…' Ron started angrily; Hermione nudged him in the ribs.

'Thank you,' said Harry.

The goblin bowed his great domed head in acknowledgement, then flexed his short legs.

They left the room but Harry leaned forward and took the sword of Gryffindor from beside the goblin before he walked out. Griphook did not protest, but Kitty thought he saw resentment in the goblin's eyes as he closed the door upon him.

'Little git,' whispered Ron. 'He's enjoying keeping us hanging.'

'Harry,' whispered Kitty, pulling them away from the door, into the middle of the still-dark landing, 'are you saying what I think you're saying? Are you saying there's a Horcrux in the Lestranges vault?'

'Yes,' said Harry. 'Bellatrix was terrified when she thought we'd been in there, she was beside herself. Why? What did she think we'd seen, what else did she think we might have taken? Something she was petrified You-Know-Who would find out about.'

'But I thought we were looking for places You-Know-Who's been, places he's done something important?' said Ron, looking baffled. 'Was he ever inside the Lestranges' vault?'

'I don't know whether he was ever inside Gringotts,' said Harry. 'He never had gold there when he was younger, because nobody left him anything. He would have seen the bank from the outside, though, the first time he ever went to Diagon Alley. I think he would have envied anyone who had a key to a Gringotts vault. I think he'd have seen it as a real symbol of belonging to the Wizarding world. And don't forget, he trusted Bellatrix and her husband. They were his most devoted servants before he fell, and they went looking for him after he vanished. He said it might he came back, I heard him.'

Harry rubbed his scar.

'I don't think he'd have told Bellatrix it was a Horcrux, though. He never told Lucius Malfoy the truth about the diary. He probably told her it was a treasured possession and asked her to place it in her vault. The safest place in the world for anything you want to hide, Hagrid told me... except for Hogwarts.'

When Harry had finished speaking, Ron shook his head.

'You really understand him.'

'Bits of him,' said Harry. 'Bits... I just wish I'd understood Dumbledore as much. But we'll see. Come on, Ollivander now.'

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	31. Chapter 31

The Elder Wand

_Sorry for just reviewing two chapters yesterday…I know u guys are used to seven or eight, but I was busy watching the Indian Premier League…oh I love cricket! I'll try and make up for it today…happy reading!_

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

Ron, Hermione and Kitty followed Harry across the little landing, and knocked on the door opposite Bill and Fleur's. A weak 'Come in!' answered them.

Harry pushed open the door, and entered the room.

'Mr. Ollivander, I'm sorry to disturb you,' Harry said.

'My dear boy,' Ollivander's voice was feeble. 'You rescued us, I can never thank you... never thank you... enough.'

'We were glad to do it.'

Harry's scar throbbed. He knew, he was certain, that there was hardly any time left in which to beat Voldemort to his goal, or else to attempt to thwart him. He felt a flutter of panic... yet he had made his decision when he chose to speak to Griphook first. Feigning a calm he did not feel, he groped in the pouch around his neck and took out the two halves of his broken wand.

'Mr. Ollivander, I need some help.'

'Anything. Anything,' Said the wandmaker weakly.

'Can you mend this? Is it possible?'

Ollivander held out a trembling hand, and Harry placed the two barely connected halves in his palm.

'Holly and phoenix feather,' said Ollivander in a tremulous voice. 'Eleven inches. Nice and supple.'

'Yes,' said Harry. 'Can you…'

'No,' whispered Ollivander. 'I am sorry, very sorry, but a wand that has suffered this degree of damage cannot be repaired by any means that I know of.'

Harry had been braced to hear it, but it was a blow nevertheless. He took the wand halves back and replaced them in the pouch around his neck. Ollivander stared at the place where the shattered wand had vanished, and did not look away until Harry had taken from his pocket the two wands he had brought from the Malfoys.

'Can you identify these?' Harry asked.

The wandmaker took the first of the wands and held it close to his faded eyes, rolling it between his knobble-knuckled fingers, flexing it slightly.

'Walnut and dragon heartstring,' he said. 'Twelve-and-three-quarter inches. Unyielding. This wand belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange.'

'And this one?'

Ollivander performed the same examination.

'Hawthorn and unicorn hair. Twelve inches precisely. Reasonably springy. This was the wand of Draco Malfoy.'

'Was?' repeated Harry. 'Isn't it still his?'

'Perhaps not. If you took it…'

'…I did…'

'…then it may be yours. Of course, the manner of taking matters. Much also depends upon the wand itself. In general, however, where a wand has been won, its allegiance will change.'

There was a silence in the room, except for the distant rushing of the sea.

'You talk about wands like they've got feelings,' said Kitty, 'like they can think for themselves.'

'The wand chooses the wizard,' said Ollivander. 'That much has always been clear to those of us who have studied wandlore.'

'A person can still use a wand that hasn't chosen them, though?' asked Harry.

'Oh yes, if you are any wizard at all you will be able to channel your magic through almost any instrument. The best results, however, must always come where there is the strongest affinity between wizard and wand. These connections are complex. An initial attraction, and then a mutual quest for experience, the wand learning from the wizard, the wizard from the wand.'

'I took this wand from Draco Malfoy by force. I disarmed him,' said Harry. 'Can I use it safely?'

'I think so. Subtle laws govern wand ownership, but the conquered wand will usually bend its will to its new master.'

'So I should use this one?' said Ron, pulling Wormtail's wand out of his pocket and handing it to Ollivander.

'Chestnut and dragon heartstring. Nine-and-a-quarter inches. Brittle. I was forced to make this shortly after my kidnapping, for Peter Pettigrew. Yes, if you won it, it is more likely to do your bidding, and do it well, than another wand.'

'And this holds true for all wands, does it?' asked Harry.

'I think so,' replied Ollivander, his protuberant eyes upon Harry's face. 'You ask deep questions, Mr. Potter. Wandlore is a complex and mysterious branch of magic.'

'So, it isn't necessary to kill the previous owner to take the possession of a wand?' asked Harry.

Ollivander swallowed.

'Necessary? No, I should not say that it is necessary to kill.'

'There are legends, though,' said Harry, and as his heart rate quickened, the pain in his scar became more intense; he was sure that Voldemort has decided to put his idea into action. 'Legends about a wand…or wands…that have been passed from hand to hand by murder.'

Ollivander turned pale. Against the snowy pillow he was light gray, and his eyes were enormous, bloodshot, and bulging with what looked like fear.

'Only one wand, I think,' he whispered.

'And You-Know-Who is interested in it, isn't he?' asked Harry.

'I… how?' croaked Ollivander, and he looked appealingly at Ron and Hermione for help. 'How do you know this?'

'He wanted you to tell him how to overcome the connection between our wands,' said Harry.

Ollivander looked terrified.

'He tortured me, you must understand that! The Cruciatus Curse, I…I had no choice but to tell him what I knew, what I guessed!'

'I understand,' said Harry. 'You told him about the twin cores? You said he just had to borrow another wizard's wand?'

Ollivander looked horrified, transfixed, by the amount that Harry knew. He nodded slowly.

'But it didn't work,' Harry went on. 'Mine still beat the borrowed wand. Do you know why that is?'

Ollivander shook his head slowly as he had just nodded.

'I had... never heard of such a thing. Your wand performed something unique that night. The connection of the twin cores is incredibly rare, yet why your wand would have snapped the borrowed wand, I do not know...'

'We were talking about the other wand, the wand that changes hands by murder. When You-Know-Who realized my wand had done something strange, he came back and asked about that other wand, didn't he?'

'How do you know this?'

Harry did not answer.

'Yes, he asked,' whispered Ollivander. 'He wanted to know everything I could tell him about the wand variously known as the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny, or the Elder Wand.'

Harry glanced sideways at Kitty. She looked flabbergasted.

'The Dark Lord,' said Ollivander in hushed and frightened tones, 'had always been happy with the wand I made him…yes and phoenix feather, thirteen-and-a-half inches… until he discovered the connection of the twin cores. Now he seeks another, more powerful wand, as the only way to conquer yours.'

'But he'll know soon, if he doesn't already, that mine's broken beyond repair,' said Harry quietly.

'No!' said Kitty, sounding frightened. 'He can't know that, Harry, how could he…'

'Priori Incantatem,' said Harry. 'We left Hermione's wand and the blackthorn wand at the Malfoys'. If they examine them properly, make them re-create the spells they've cast lately, they'd see that Hermione's broke mine, they'll see that Hermione tried and failed to mend it, and they'll realize that I've been using the blackthorn one ever since.'

The little color she had regained since their arrival had drained from her face. But Mr. Ollivander intervened.

'The Dark Lord no longer seeks the Elder Wand only for your destruction, Mr. Potter. He is determined to possess it because he believes it will make him truly invulnerable.'

'And will it?'

'The owner of the Elder Wand must always fear attack,' said Ollivander, 'but the idea of the Dark Lord in possession of the Deathstick is, I must admit... formidable.'

Harry was suddenly reminded of how unsure, when they first met, of how much he liked Ollivander. Even now, having been tortured and imprisoned by Voldemort, the idea of the Dark Wizard in possession of this wand seemed to enthrall him as much as it repulsed him.

'You… you really think this wand exists, then, Mr. Ollivander?' asked Hermione.

'Oh yes,' said Ollivander. 'Yes, it is perfectly possible to trace the wand's course through history. There are gaps, of, course, and long ones, where it vanishes from view, temporarily lost or hidden; but always it resurfaces. It has certain identifying characteristics that those who are learned in wandlore recognize. There are written accounts, some of them obscure, that I and other wandmakers have made it our business to study. They have the ring of authenticity.'

'So you… you don't think it can be a fairy tale or a myth?' Hermione asked hopefully.

'No,' said Ollivander. 'Whether it needs to pass by murder, I do not know. Its history is bloody, but that may be simply due to the fact that it is such a desirable object, and arouses such passions in wizards. Immensely powerful, dangerous in the wrong hands, and an object of incredible fascination to all of us who study the power of wands.'

'Mr. Ollivander,' said Harry, 'you told You-Know-Who that Gregorovitch had the Elder Wand, didn't you?'

Ollivander turned, if possible, even paler. He looked ghostly as he gulped.

'Never mind how I know it,' said Harry, closing his eyes momentarily as his scar burned and he saw, for mere seconds, a vision of the main street in Hogsmeade, still dark, because it was so much farther north. 'You told You-Know-Who that Gregorovitch had the wand?'

'It was a rumor,' whispered Ollivander. 'A rumor, years and years ago, long before you were born I believe Gregorovitch himself started it. You can see how good it would be for business; that he was studying and duplicating the qualities of the Elder Wand!'

'Yes, I can see that,' said Harry. He stood up. 'Mr. Ollivander, one last thing, and then we'll let you get some rest. What do you know about the Deathly Hallows?'

'The…the what?' asked the wandmaker, looking utterly bewildered.

'The Deathly Hallows.'

'I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. Is this still something to do with wands?'

Harry looked into the sunken face and believed that Ollivander was not acting. He did not know about the Hallows.

'Thank you,' said Harry. 'Thank you very much. We'll leave you to get some rest now.'

Ollivander looked stricken.

''He was torturing me!' he gasped. 'The Cruciatus Curse... you have no idea...'

'I do,' said Harry, 'I really do. Please get some rest. Thank you for telling me all of this.'

He led Kitty, Ron and Hermione down the staircase. Harry caught glimpses of Bill, Fleur, Luna, and Dean sitting at the table in the kitchen, cups of tea in front of them. They all looked up at Harry as he appeared in the doorway, but he merely nodded to them and continued into the garden, Kitty, Ron and Hermione behind him. The reddish mound of earth that covered Dobby lay ahead, and Harry walked back to it, as the pain in his head built more and more powerfully. It was a huge effort now to close down the visions that were forcing themselves upon him, but he knew that he would have to resist only a little longer. He would yield very soon, because he needed to know that his theory was right. He must make only one more short effort, so that he could explain to Kitty, Ron and Hermione.

'Gregorovitch had the Elder Wand a long time ago,' he said, 'I saw You-Know-Who trying to find him. When he tracked him down, he found that Gregorovitch didn't have it anymore: It was stolen from him by Grindelwald. How Grindelwald found out that Gregorovitch had it, I don't know…but if Gregorovitch was stupid enough to spread the rumor, it can't have been that difficult.'

Voldemort was at the gates of Hogwarts; Harry could see him standing there, and see too the lamp bobbing in the pre-dawn, coming closer and closer.

'And Grindelwald used the Elder Wand to become powerful. And at the height of his power, when Dumbledore knew he was the only one who could stop him, he dueled Grindelwald and beat him, and he took the Elder Wand.'

'Dumbledore had the Elder Wand?' said Kitty. 'But then, where is it now?'

'At Hogwarts,' said Harry, fighting to remain with them in the cliff-top garden.

'But then, let's go!' said Ron urgently. 'Harry, let's go and get it before he does!'

'It's too late for that,' said Harry. He could not help himself, but clutched his head, trying to help it resist. 'He knows where it is. He's there now.'

'Harry!' Ron said furiously. 'How long have you known this…why have we been wasting time? Why did you talk to Griphook first? We could have gone…we could still go…'

'No,' said Harry, and he sank to his knees in the grass. 'Hermione's right. Dumbledore didn't want me to have it. He didn't want me to take it. He wanted me to get the Horcruxes.'

'The unbeatable wand, Harry!' moaned Ron.

'I'm not supposed to... I'm supposed to get the Horcruxes...'

And now everything was cool and dark: The sun was barely visible over the horizon as he glided alongside Snape, up through the grounds toward the lake.

'I shall join you in the castle shortly,' he said in his high, cold voice. 'Leave me now.'

Snape bowed and set off back up the path, his black cloak billowing behind him. Harry walked slowly, waiting for Snape's figure to disappear. It would not do for Snape, or indeed anyone else, to see where he was going. But there were no lights in the castle windows, and he could conceal himself... and in a second he had cast upon himself a Disillusionment Charm that hid him even from his own eyes.

And he walked on, around the edge of the lake, taking in the outlines of the beloved castle, his first kingdom, his birthright...

And here it was, beside the lake, reflected in the dark waters. The white marble tomb, an unnecessary blot on the familiar landscape. He felt again that rush of controlled euphoria, that heady sense of purpose in destruction. He raised the old yew wand: How fitting that this would be its last great act.

The tomb split open from head to foot. The shrouded figure was as long as thin as it had been in life. He raised the wand again.

The wrappings fell open. The face was translucent, pale, sunken, yet almost perfectly preserved. They had left his spectacles on the crooked nose: He felt amused derision. Dumbledore's hands were folded upon his chest, and there it lay, clutched beneath them, buried with him.

Had the old fool imagined that marble or death would protect the wand? Had he thought that the Dark Lord would be scared to violate his tomb? The spiderlike hand swooped and pulled the wand from Dumbledore's grasp, and as he took it, a shower of sparks flew from its tip, sparkling over the corpse of its last owner, ready to serve a new master at last.

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	32. Chapter 32

Teddy Lupin

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

'Harry!' said Kitty, 'Griphook wants to talk to you.'

Griphook was waiting for them in the smallest of three bedrooms, which Luna, Kitty and Hermione shared. Harry, Ron and Hermione followed Kitty back into the bedroom.

'I have reached my decision, Harry Potter,' said the goblin, who was sitting cross-legged in a low chair, drumming its arms with his spindly fingers.'Though the goblins of Gringotts will consider it base treachery, I have decided to help you…'

'That's great!' said Harry, relief surging through him. 'Griphook, thank you, we're really…'

'… in return,' said the goblin firmly, 'for payment.'

Slightly taken aback, Harry hesitated.

'How much do you want? I've got gold.'

'Not gold,' said Griphook. 'I have gold.'

His black eyes glittered; there were no whites to his eyes.

'I want the sword. The sword of Godric Gryffindor.'

Harry's spirits plummeted.

'You can't have that,' he said. 'I'm sorry.'

'Then,' said the goblin softly, 'we have a problem.'

'We can give you something else,' said Ron eagerly. 'I'll bet the Lestranges have got loads of stuff, you can take your pick once we get into the vault.'

He had said the wrong thing. Griphook flushed angrily.

'I am not a thief, boy! I am not trying to procure treasures to which I have no right!'

'The sword's ours…'

'It is not,' said the goblin.

'We're Gryffindors, and it was Godric Gryffindor's…'

'And before it was Gryffindor's, whose was it?' demanded the goblin, sitting up straight.

'No one's,' said Ron. 'It was made for him, wasn't it?'

'No!' cried the goblin, bristling with anger as he pointed a long finger at Ron. 'Wizarding arrogance again! That sword was Ragnuk the First's, taken from him by Godric Gryffindor! It is a… a masterpiece of goblinwork! It belongs with the goblins. The sword is the price of my hire, take it or leave it!'

Griphook glared at them. Harry glanced at the other three, then said, 'We need to discuss this, Griphook, if that's all right. Could you give us a few minutes?'

The goblin nodded, looking sour.

Downstairs in the empty sitting room, Harry walked to the fireplace, brow furrowed, trying to think what to do. Behind him, Ron said, 'He's having a laugh. We can't let him have that sword."

'It is true?' Harry asked Hermione. 'Was the sword stolen by Gryffindor?'

'I don't know,' she said hopelessly. 'Wizarding history often skates over what the wizards have done to other magical races, but there's no account that I know of that says Gryffindor stole the sword.'

'It'll be one of those goblin stories,' said Ron, 'about how the wizards are always trying to get one over on them. I suppose we should think ourselves lucky he hasn't asked for one of our wands.'

'Goblins have got good reason to dislike wizards, Ron,' said Kitty. 'They've been treated brutally in the past.'

'Goblins aren't exactly fluffy little bunnies, though, are they?' said Ron. 'They've killed plenty of us. They've fought dirty too.'

'But arguing with Griphook about whose race is most underhanded and violent isn't going to make him more likely to help us, is it?'

There was a pause while they tried to think of a way around the problem. Harry looked out of the window at Dobby's grave. Luna was arranging sea lavender in a jam jar beside the headstone.

'Okay,' said Ron, and Harry turned back to face him, 'how's this? We tell Griphook we need the sword until we get inside the vault and then he can have it. There's a fake in these, isn't there? We switch them, and give him the fake.'

'Ron, he'd know the difference better than we would!' said Kitty. 'He's the only one who realized there had been a swap!'

'Yeah, but we could…caper before he realizes…'

He quailed beneath the look Hermione was giving him.

'That,' she said quietly, 'is despicable. Ask for his help, then double-cross him? And you wonder why goblins don't like wizards, Ron?'

'Hermione,' said Kitty, 'we aren't taking the sword for ourselves. We're taking it to defeat You Know Who. What does it matter if we double cross those who try to make our job difficult? He doesn't give a damn, who wins this war, the good or the evil. He just cares for his race.'

'We need to offer him something else, something just as valuable,' said Hermione.

'Brilliant, I'll go and get one of our other ancient goblin-made swords and you can gift wrap it,' said Ron sarcastically.

Silence fell between them again. Harry was sure that the goblin would accept nothing but the sword, even if they had something as valuable to offer him. Yet the sword was their one, indispensable weapon against the Horcruxes.

'Maybe he's lying,' Harry said, opening his eyes again. 'Griphook. Maybe Gryffindor didn't take the sword. How do we know the goblin version of history's right?'

'Does it make a difference?' asked Hermione.

'Changes how I feel about it,' said Harry.

He took a deep breath.

'We'll tell him he can have the sword after he's helped us get into that vault…but we'll be careful to avoid telling him exactly when he can have it.'

A grin spread slowly across Ron's face. Kitty was grinning too. Hermione, however, looked alarmed.

'Harry, we can't…'

'He can have it,' Harry went on, 'after we've used it on all of the Horcruxes. I'll make sure he gets it then. I'll keep my word.'

'But that could be years!' said Hermione.

'I know that, but he can still have it. I won't be lying... really.'

Harry met her eyes with a mixture of defiance and shame. He remembered the words that had been engraved over the gateway to Nurmengard: FOR THE GREATER GOOD. He pushed the idea away. What choice did they have?

'I don't like it,' said Hermione.

'Nor do I, much,' Harry admitted.

'I think it's a brilliant idea,' said Kitty stoutly.

'I agree with Kitty, I think its genius,' said Ron, standing up again. 'Let's go and tell him.'

Back in the smallest bedroom, Harry made the offer, careful to phrase it so as not to give any definite time for the handover of the sword. Hermione frowned at the floor while he was speaking; he felt irritated at her, afraid that she might give the game away. However, Griphook had eyes for nobody but Harry.

'I have your word, Harry Potter, that you will give me the sword of Gryffindor if I help you?'

'Yes,' said Harry.

'Then shake,' said the goblin, holding out his hand.

Harry took it and shook. He wondered whether those black eyes saw any misgivings in his own. Then Griphook relinquished him, clapped his hands together, and said, 'So. We begin!'

It was like planning to break into the Ministry all over again. They settled to work in the smallest bedroom, which was kept, according to Griphook's preference, in semidarkness.

'I have visited the Lestranges' vault only once,' Griphook told them, 'on the occasion I was told to place inside it the false sword. It is one of the most ancient chambers. The oldest Wizarding families store their treasures at the deepest level, where the vaults are largest and best protected...'

They remained shut in the cupboardlike room for hours at a time. Slowly the days stretched into weeks. There was problem after problem to overcome, not least of which was that their store of Polyjuice Potion was greatly depleted.

'There's really only enough left for one of us,' said Hermione, tilting the thick mudlike potion against the lamplight.

'That'll be enough,' said Harry, who was examining Griphook's hand-drawn map of the deepest passageways.

The longer they spent together, the more Kitty realized that he did not much like the goblin. Griphook was unexpectedly bloodthirsty, laughed at the idea of pain in lesser creatures and seemed to relish the possibility that they might have to hurt other wizards to reach the Lestranges' vault. Kitty could tell that his distaste was shared by the other three, but they did not discuss it. They needed Griphook.

Ollivander was moved to Ron's great aunt, Muriel's house, the next day.

'So, au revoir, Mr. Ollivander,' said Fleur, kissing him on both cheeks. 'And I wonder whezzer you could oblige me by delivering a package to Bill's Auntie Muriel? I never returned 'er tiara.'

'It will be an honor,' said Ollivander with a little bow, 'the very least I can do in return for your generous hospitality.'

Fleur drew out a worn velvet case, which she opened to show the wandmaker. The tiara sat glittering and twinkling in the light from the low-hanging lamp.

'Moonstones and diamonds,' said Griphook, who had sidled into the room. 'Made by goblins, I think?'

'And paid for by wizards,' said Bill quietly, and the goblin shot him a look that was both furtive and challenging.

'Daddy's made a tiara,' piped up Luna, 'Well, more of a crown, really.'

'Yes, he's trying to re-create the lost diadem of Ravenclaw. He thinks he's identified most of the main elements now. Adding the billywig wings really made a difference…'

There was a bang on the front door. Everyone's head turned toward it. Fleur came running out of the kitchen, looking frightened; Bill jumped to his feed, his wand pointing at the door; Harry, Kitty, Ron, and Hermione did the same. Silently Griphook slipped beneath the table, out of sight.

'Who is it?' Bill called.

'It is I, Remus John Lupin!' called a voice over the howling wind. Harry experienced a thrill of fear; what had happened? 'I am a werewolf, married to Nymphadora Tonks, and you, the Secret-Keeper of Shell Cottage, told me the address and bade me come in an emergency!'

'Remus,' muttered Kitty, and she ran to the door and wrenched it open.

Remus fell over the threshold. He was white-faced, wrapped in a traveling cloak, his graying hair windswept. He straightened up, looked around the room, making sure of who was there, then cried aloud, 'It's a boy! We've named him Ted, after Dora's father!'

Kitty shrieked.

'What? Tonks…Tonks has had the baby?'

'Yes, yes, she's had the baby!' shouted Remus, hugging Kitty in delight. All around the table came cries of delight, sighs of relief: Hermione and Fleur both squealed, 'Congratulations!' and Ron said, 'Blimey, a baby!' as if he had never heard of such a thing before.

'Yes..yes…a boy,' said Remus again, who seemed dazed by his own happiness. He strode around the table and hugged Harry; the scene in the basement of Grimmauld Place might never have happened.

'You'll be godfather?' he said as he released Harry.

'M-me?' stammered Harry.

'You, yes, of course…Dora quite agrees, no one better …'

'I…yeah…blimey…'

Harry felt overwhelmed, astonished, delighted; now Bill was hurrying to fetch wine, and Fleur was persuading Remus to join them for a drink.

'I can't stay long, I must get back,' said Remus, beaming around at them all: He looked years younger than Harry had ever seen him. 'Thank you, thank you, Bill'

Bill had soon filled all of their goblets, they stood and raised them high in a toast.

'To Teddy Remus Lupin,' said Remus, 'a great wizard in the making!'

' 'Oo does 'e look like?' Fleur inquired.

'I think he looks like Dora, but she thinks he is like me. Not much hair. It looked black when he was born, but I swear it's turned ginger in the hour since. Probably blond by the time I get back. Andromeda says Tonks's hair started changing color the day that she was born.' He drained his goblet. 'Oh, go on then, just one more,' he added, beaming, as Bill made to fill it again.

'Oh! I almost forgot,' said Remus suddenly, 'Kitty, Can I have a word?'

'Sure,' said Kitty, following him to the kitchen.

'Kitty, I heard that you got captured by the Death Eaters,' said Remus.

'How did you know?' said Kitty surprised.

'Draco told me,' said Remus, 'He told me that they had captured you, and he didn't know whom to tell so he told me. We were planning to get you out of there, when we got the news that Harry had been caught.'

'But how did he communicate with you?' said Kitty.

'Patronus…'said Remus.

'What is it? His Patronus, I mean?' said Kitty at once.

'A fox, but why're you asking,' said Remus.

'A fox,' said Kitty, 'No, I was just curious.'

'And, Kitty,' said Remus, 'I hope You know Who didn't torture you for information on Harry?'

'He did of course, but…'

'He did?' said Remus furiously, 'But why? He knew Harry was going to come get you, so why'd he need to…'

'Remus,' said Kitty, 'You know what You Know Who's like. But, it's okay, really. I'm fine, and its all thanks to Draco. He slipped me a Strengthening Solution in my food.'

'I owe that boy,' said Remus, 'And, listen, while you were there, I hope nobody…I mean we all know what the Death Eaters are like…No one…They did not…'

'No!' said Kitty firmly, 'They didn't.'

'Good,' said Remus, 'Let's go back to the living room, now. They're all waiting for us.'

Kitty and Remus returned to the living room.

The wind buffeted the little cottage and the fire leapt and crackled, and Bill was soon opening another bottle of wine. Remus's news seemed to have taken them out of themselves, removed them for a while from their state of siege: Tidings of new life were exhilarating.

'No... no... I really must get back,' said Remus at last, declining yet another goblet of wine. He got to his feet and pulled his traveling cloak back around himself.

'Good-bye, good-bye…I'll try and bring some pictures in a few day's time…they'll all be so glad to know that I've seen you…'

He fastened his cloak and made his farewells, hugging Kitty and grasping hands with the rest, then, still beaming, returned into the wild night.

'Godfather, Harry!' said Bill as they walked into the kitchen together, helping clear the table. 'A real honor! Congratulations!'

As Harry set down the empty goblets he was carrying, Bill pulled the door behind him closed, shutting out the still-voluble voices of the others, who were continuing to celebrate even in Remus's absence.

'I wanted a private word, actually, Harry. It hasn't been easy to get an opportunity with the cottage this full of people.'

Bill hesitated.

'Harry, you're planning something with Griphook.'

It was a statement, not a question, and Harry did not bother to deny it. He merely looked at Bill, waiting.

'I know goblins,' said Bill. 'I've worked for Gringotts ever since I left Hogwarts. As far as there can be friendship between wizards and goblins, I have goblin friends…or, at least, goblins I know well, and like.' Again, Bill hesitated.

'Harry, what do you want from Griphook, and what have you promised him in return?'

'I can't tell you that,' said Harry. 'Sorry, Bill.'

The kitchen door opened behind them; Fleur was trying to bring through more empty goblets.

'Wait,' Bill told her, 'Just a moment.'

She backed out and he closed the door again.

'Then I have to say this,' Bill went on. 'If you have struck any kind of bargain with Griphook, and most particularly if that bargain involves treasure, you must be exceptionally careful. Goblin notions of ownership, payment, and repayment are not the same as human ones.'

Harry felt a slight squirm of discomfort, as though a small snake had stirred inside him.

'What do you mean?' he asked.

'We are talking about a different breed of being,' said Bill. 'Dealings between wizards and goblins have been fraught for centuries…but you'll know all that from History of Magic. There has been fault on both sides, I would never claim that wizards have been innocent. However, there is a belief among some goblins, and those at Gringotts are perhaps most prone to it, that wizards cannot be trusted in matters of gold and treasure, that they have no respect for goblin ownership.'

'I respect…' Harry began, but Bill shook his head.

'You don't understand, Harry, nobody could understand unless they have lived with goblins. To a goblin, the rightful and true master of any object is the maker, not the purchaser. All goblin made objects are, in goblin eyes, rightfully theirs.'

'But it was bought…'

'…then they would consider it rented by the one who had paid the money. They have, however, great difficulty with the idea of goblin-made objects passing from wizard to wizard. You saw Griphook's face when the tiara passed under his eyes. He disapproves. I believe he thinks, as do the fiercest of his kind, that it ought to have been returned to the goblins once the original purchaser died. They consider our habit of keeping goblin-made objects, passing them from wizard to wizard without further payment, little more than theft.'

Harry had an ominous feeling now; he wondered whether Bill guessed more than he was letting on.

'All I am saying,' said Bill, setting his hand on the door back into the sitting room, 'is to be very careful what you promise goblins, Harry. It would be less dangerous to break into Gringotts than to renege on a promise to a goblin.'

'Right,' said Harry as Bill opened the door, 'yeah. Thanks. I'll bear that in mind.'

As he followed Bill back to the others a wry thought came to him, born no doubt of the wine he had drunk. He seemed set on to become just as reckless a godfather to Teddy Lupin as Sirius Black had been to him.

_Please review!_


	33. Chapter 33

Gringotts

**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP.

Their plans were made, their preparations complete; in the smallest bedroom a single long, coarse black hair (plucked from the sweater Hermione had been wearing at Malfoy Manor) lay curled in a small glass phial on the mantelpiece.

'And you'll be using her actual wand,' said Kitty, nodding toward the walnut wand, 'so I reckon you'll be pretty convincing.'

Hermione looked frightened that the wand might sting or bit her as she picked it up.

'I hate that thing,' she said in a low voice. 'I really hate it. It feels all wrong, it doesn't work properly for me... It's like a bit of her.'

'It'll probably help you get in character, though,' said Ron. 'think what that wand's done!'

'But that's my point!' said Hermione. 'This is the wand that tortured Neville's mum and dad, and who knows how many other people? This is the wand that killed Sirius!'

Kitty had not thought of that: she looked at Harry who was visited by a brutal urge to snap it, to slice it in half with Gryffindor's sword, which was propped against the wall beside him.

'I miss my wand,' Hermione said miserably. 'I wish Mr. Ollivander could have made me another one.'

Harry looked down at the hawthorn wand that had once belonged to Draco Malfoy. He had been surprised, but pleased to discover that it worked for him at least as well as Kitty's had done. Remembering what Ollivander had told them of the secret workings of wands, Harry thought he knew what Hermione's problem was: She had not won the walnut wand's allegiance by taking it personally from Bellatrix.

The door of the bedroom opened and Griphook entered. Harry reached instinctively for the hilt of the sword and drew it close to him, but regretted his action at once. He could tell that the goblin had noticed. Seeking to gloss over the sticky moment, he said, 'We've just been checking the last-minute stuff, Griphook. We've told Bill and Fleur we're leaving tomorrow, and we've told them not to get up to see us off.'

They had been firm on this point, because Hermione would need to transform in Bellatrix before they left, and the less that Bill and Fleur knew or suspected about what they were about to do, the better. They had also explained that they would not be returning. As they had lost the tent on the night that the Snatcher's caught them, Bill had lent them another one. It was now packed inside the beaded bag, which, Kitty was impressed to learn, Hermione had protected from the Snatchers by the simple expedient of stuffing it down her sock.

Though he would miss Bill, Fleur, Luna, and Dean, not to mention the home comforts they had enjoyed over the last few weeks, Kitty was looking forward to escaping the confinement of Shell Cottage.

It was a relief when six o-clock arrived and they could slip out of their sleeping bags, dress in the semidarkness, then creep out into the garden, where they were to meet Hermione, Kitty and Griphook.

Bellatrix Lestrange was striding across the lawn toward Harry and Ron, accompanied by Kitty and Griphook. As she walked, she was tucking the small, beaded bag into the inside pocket of another set of the old robes they had taken from Grimmauld Place. Though Kitty knew perfectly well that it was really Hermione, she could not suppress a shiver of loathing.

'She tasted disgusting, worse than Gurdyroots! Okay, Ron, come here so I can do you...'

'Right, but remember, I don't like the beard too long.'

'Oh, for heaven's sake, this isn't about looking handsome.'

'It's not that, it gets in the way! But I liked my nose a bit shorter, try and do it the way you did last time.'

Hermione sighed and set to work, muttering under her breath as she transformed various aspects of Ron's appearance. He was to be given a completely fake identity, and they were trusting to the malevolent aura cast by Bellatrix to protect him. Meanwhile Harry, Kitty and Griphook were to be concealed under the Invisibility Cloak.

'There,' said Hermione, 'how does he look, Harry?'

It was just not possible to discern Ron under his disguise, but only, Kitty thought because she knew him so well. Ron's hair was now long and wavy; he had a thick brown beard and mustache, no freckles, a short, broad nose, and heavy eyebrows.

'Well, he's not my type, but he'll do,' said Harry. 'Shall we go, then?'

All four of them glanced back at Shell Cottage, lying dark and silent under the fading stars, then turned and began to walk toward the point, just beyond the boundary wall, where the Fidelius Charm stopped working and they would be able to Disapparate. Once past the gate, Griphook spoke.

'I should climb up now, Harry Potter, I think?'

Harry bent down and the goblin clambered onto his back, his hands linked on front of Harry's throat. He was not heavy, but Harry disliked the feeling of the goblin and the surprising strength with which he clung on. Hermione pulled the Invisibility Cloak out of the beaded bag and threw it over them both of them and Kitty.

'Perfect,' she said, bending down to check Harry's feet. 'I can't see a thing. Let's go.'

Harry turned on the spot, with Griphook on his shoulders and Kitty clutching his arm, concentrating with all his might on the Leaky Cauldron, the inn that was the entrance to Diagon Alley. The goblin clung even tighter as they moved into the compressing darkness, and seconds later Harry's feet found pavement and he opened his eyes on Charing Cross Road. Muggles bustled past wearing the hangdog expressions of early morning, quite unconscious of the little inn's existence.

The bar of the Leaky Cauldron was nearly deserted. Tom, the stooped and toothless landlord, was polishing glasses behind the bar counter; a couple of warlocks having a muttered conversation in the far corner glanced at Hermione and drew back into the shadows.

'Madam Lestrange,' murmured Tom, and as Hermione paused he inclined his head subserviently.

'Good morning,' said Hermione, and as Harry crept past, still carrying Griphook piggyback under the Cloak, he saw Tom look surprised.

'Too polite,' Harry whispered in Hermione's ear as they passed out of the Inn into the tiny backyard. 'You need to treat people like they're scum!'

'Okay, okay!'

Hermione drew out Bellatrix's wand and rapped a brick in the nondescript wall in front of them. At once the bricks began to whirl and spin: A hole appeared in the middle of them, which grew wider and wider, finally forming an archway onto the narrow cobbled street that was Diagon Alley.

It was quiet, barely time for the shops to open, and there were hardly and shoppers abroad. The crooked, cobbled street was much altered now from the bustling place Harry had visited before his first team at Hogwarts so many years before. More shops than ever were boarded up, though several new establishments dedicated to the Dark Arts had been created since his last visit. Harry's own face glared down at them from posters plastered over many windows, always captioned with the words UNDESIRABLE NUMBER ONE. There were even a few posters of Kitty's face with the words UNDESIRABLE NUMBER TWO.

As they set off along the street, the beggars glimpsed Hermione. They seemed to melt away before her, drawing hoods over their faces and fleeing as fast as they could. Hermione looked after them curiously, until the man with the bloodied bandage came staggering right across her path.

'My children,' he bellowed, pointing at her. His voice was cracked, high-pitched, he sounded distraught. 'Where are my children? What has he done with them? You know, you know!'

'I…I really…' stammered Hermione.

The man lunged at her, reaching for her throat. Then, with a bang and a burst of red light he was thrown backward onto the ground, unconscious. Ron stood there, his wand still outstretched and a look of shock visible behind his beard. Before they could move or consult one another, however, they heard a cry from behind them.

'Why, Madam Lestrange!'

Kitty whirled around and saw a tall, think wizard with a crown of bushy gray hair and a long, sharp nose was striding toward them.

'It's Travers,' hissed the goblin into Harry's ear, but at that moment Harry could not think who Travers was. Hermione had drawn herself up to full height and said with as much contempt as she could muster:

'And what do you want?'

Travers stopped in his tracks, clearly affronted.

'He's another Death Eater!' breathed Griphook, and Harry sidled sideways to repeat the information into Hermione's ear.

'I merely sought to greet you,' said Travers coolly, 'but if my presence is not welcome...'

Kitty recognized his voice now: Travers was one of the Death Eaters who had been summoned to Xenophilius's house and had taken her to the Malfoy Manor.

'No, no, not at all, Travers,' said Hermione quickly, trying to cover up her mistake. 'How are you?'

'Well, I confess I am surprised to see you out and about, Bellatrix.'

'Really? Why?' asked Hermione.

'Well,' Travers coughed, 'I heard that the Inhabitants of Malfoy Manor were confined to the house, after the... ah... escape.'

Harry willed Hermione to keep her head. If this was true, and Bellatrix was not supposed to be out in public.

'The Dark Lord forgives those who have served him most faithfully in the past,' said Hermione in a magnificent imitation of Bellatrix's most contemptuous manner. 'Perhaps your credit is not as good with him as mine is, Travers.'

Though the Death Eater looked offended, he also seemed less suspicious. He glanced down at the man Ron had just Stunned.

'How did it offend you?'

'It does not matter, it will not do so again,' said Hermione coolly.

'Some of these wandless can be troublesome,' said Travers. 'While they do nothing but beg I have no objection, but one of them actually asked me to plead her case in the Ministry last week. 'I'm a witch, sir, I'm a witch, let me prove it to you!' he said in a squeaky impersonation. 'As if I was going to give her my wand but whose wand,' said Travers curiously, 'are you using at the moment, Bellatrix? I heard that your own was…'

'I have my wand here,' said Hermione coldly, holding up Bellatrix's wand. 'I don't know what rumors you have been listening to, Travers, but you seem sadly misinformed.'

Travers seemed a little taken aback at that, and he turned instead to Ron.

'Who is your friend? I do not recognize him.'

'This is Dragomir Despard,' said Hermione; they had decided that a fictional foreigner was the safest cover for Ron to assume. 'He speaks very little English, but he is in sympathy with the Dark Lord's aims. He has traveled here from Transylvania to see our new regime.'

'Indeed? How do you do, Dragomir?'

' 'Ow you?' said Ron, holding out his hand.

Travers extended two fingers and shook Ron's hand as though frightened of dirtying himself.

'So what brings you and your…er… sympathetic friend to Diagon Alley this early?' asked Travers.

'I need to visit Gringotts,' said Hermione.

'Alas, I also,' said Travers. 'Gold, filthy gold! We cannot live without it, yet I confess I deplore the necessity of consorting with our long-fingered friends.'

Harry felt Griphook's clasped hands tighten momentarily around his neck.

'Shall we?' said Travers, gesturing Hermione forward.

Hermione had no choice but to fall into step beside him and head along the crooked, cobbled street toward the place where the snowy-white Gringotts stood towering over the other little shops. Ron sloped along beside them, and Harry, Kitty and Griphook followed.

A watchful Death Eater was the very last thing they needed, and the worst of it was, with Travers matching at what he believed to be Bellatrix's side, there was no means for Harry to communicate with Hermione or Ron. All too soon they arrived at the foot of the marble steps leading up to the great bronze doors. As Griphook had already warned them, the liveried goblins who usually flanked the entrance had been replaced by two wizards, both of whom were clutching long thin golden rods.

'Ah, Probity Probes,' signed Travers theatrically, 'so crude but so effective!'

And he set off up the steps, nodding left and right to the wizards, who raised the golden rods and passed them up and down his body. The Probes, Harry knew, detected spells of concealment and hidden magical objects. Knowing that he had only seconds, Harry pointed Draco's wand at one of the guards in turn and murmured, 'Confundo'. Kitty did the same with the other guard. Unnoticed by Travers, who was looking through the bronze doors at the inner hall, each of the guards gave a little start as the spells hit them.

Hermione's long black hair rippled behind her as she climbed the steps.

'One moment, madam,' said the guard, raising his Probe.

'But you've just done that!' said Hermione in Bellatrix's commanding, arrogant voice. Travers looked around, eyebrows raised. The guard was confused. He stared down at the thin golden Probe and then at his companion, who said in a slightly dazed voice, 'Yeah, you've just checked them, Marius.'

Hermione swept forward. Ron by her side, Harry, Kitty and Griphook trotting invisibly behind them. Harry glanced back as they crossed the threshold. The wizards were both scratching their heads.

The long counter was manned by goblins sitting on high stools serving the first customers of the day. Hermione, Ron, and Travers headed toward an old goblin who was examining a thick gold coin through an eyeglass. Hermione allowed Travers to step ahead of her on the pretext of explaining features of the hall to Ron.

The goblin tossed the coin he was holding aside, said to nobody in particular, 'Leprechaun,' and then greeted Travers, who passed over a tiny golden key, which was examined and given back to him.

Hermione stepped forward.

'Madam Lestrange!' said the goblin, evidently startled. 'Dear me! How…how may I help you today?'

'I wish to enter my vault,' said Hermione.

The old goblin seemed to recoil a little. Harry glanced around. Not only was Travers hanging back, watching, but several other goblins had looked up from their work to stare at Hermione.

'You have... identification?' asked the goblin.

'Identification? I… have never been asked for identification before!' said Hermione.

'They know!' whispered Griphook in Harry's ear, 'They must have been warned there might be an imposter!'

'Your wand will do, madam,' said the goblin. He held out a slightly trembling hand, and in a dreadful blast of realization Kitty knew that the goblins of Gringotts were aware that Bellatrix's wand had been stolen.

'Act now, act now,' whispered Griphook in Harry's ear, 'the Imperious Curse!'

Harry raised the hawthorn wand beneath the cloak, pointed it at the old goblin, and whispered, for the first time in his life, 'Imperio!'

A curious sensation shot down Harry's arm, a feeling of tingling, warmth that seemed to flow from his mind, down the sinews and veins connecting him to the wand and the curse it had just cast. The goblin took Bellatrix's wand, examined it closely, and then said, 'Ah, you have had a new wand made, Madam Lestrange!'

'What?' said Hermione, 'No, no, that's mine…'

'A new wand?' said Travers, approaching the counter again; still the goblins all around were watching. 'But how could you have done, which wandmaker did you use?'

Harry acted without thinking. Pointing his wand at Travers, he muttered, 'Imperio!' once more.

'Oh yes, I see,' said Travers, looking down at Bellatrix's wand, 'yes, very handsome. And is it working well? I always think wands require a little breaking in, don't you?'

Hermione looked utterly bewildered, but to Harry's enormous relief she accepted the bizarre turn of events without comment.

The old goblin behind the counter clapped his hands and a younger goblin approached.

'I shall need the Clankers,' he told the goblin, who dashed away and returned a moment later with a leather bag that seemed to be full of jangling metal, which he handed to his senior. 'Good, good! If you will follow me, Madam Lestrange,' said the old goblin, hopping down off his stool and vanishing from sight. 'I shall take you to your vault.'

He appeared around the end of the counter, jogging happily toward them.

'Wait…Bogrod!'

Another goblin came scurrying around the counter.

'We have instructions,' he said with a bow to Hermione. 'Forgive me, Madam, but there have been special orders regarding the vault of Lestrange.'

He whispered urgently in Bogrod's ear, but the Imperiused goblin shook him off.

'I am aware of the instructions, Madam Lestrange wishes to visit her vault ... Very old family ... old clients ... This way, please ...'

And, still clanking, he hurried toward one of the many doors leading off the hall. Harry looked back at Travers , who was still rooted to the spot looking abnormally vacant, and made his decision. With a flick of his wand he made Travers come with them, walking meekly in their wake as they reached the door and passed into the rough stone passageway beyond, which was lit with flaming torches.

'We're in trouble; they suspect,' said Harry as the door slammed behind them and he pulled off the Invisibility Cloak. Griphook jumped down from his shoulders: neither Travers nor Bogrod showed the slightest surprise at the sudden appearance of Harry Potter in their midst. 'They're Imperiused,' he added, in response to Hermione and Ron's confused queries about Travers and Bogrod, who were both now standing there looking blank. 'I don't think I did it strongly enough, I don't know ...'

'What do we do?' asked Ron. 'Shall we get out now, while we can?'

'If we can,' said Hermione, looking back toward the door into the main hall, beyond which who knew what was happening.

'We've got this far, I say we go on,' said Kitty.

'Good!' said Griphook. 'So, we need Bogrod to control the cart; I no long have the authority. But there will not be room for the wizard.'

Harry pointed his wand at Travers.

'Imperio!'

The wizard turned and set off along the dark track at a smart pace.

'What are you making him do?' asked Kitty interestedly.

'Hide,' said Harry as he pointed his wand at Bogrod, who whistled to summon a little cart that came trundling along the tracks toward them out of the darkness. Harry was sure he could hear shouting behind them in the main hall as they all clambered into it, Bogrod in front of Griphook, Harry, Kitty, Ron, and Hermione crammed together in the back.

With a jerk the cart moved off, gathering speed: They hurried past Travers, who was wriggling into a crack in the wall, then the cart began twisting and turning through the labyrinthine passages, sloping downward all the time. Kitty could not hear anything over the rattling of the cart on the tracks: Her hair flew behind her as they swerved between stalactites, flying ever deeper into the earth, but she kept glancing back. They might as well have left enormous footprints behind them; the more she thought about it, the more foolish it seemed to have disguised Hermione as Bellatrix, to have brought along Bellatrix's wand, when the Death Eaters knew who had stolen it…

There were a deeper than Kitty had ever penetrated within Gringotts; they took a hairpin bend at speed and saw ahead of them, with seconds to spare, a waterfall pounding over the track. Kitty heard Griphook shout, 'No!' but there was no braking. They zoomed through it. Water filled Kitty's eyes and mouth: She could not see or breathe: Then, with an awful lurch, the cart flipped over and they were all thrown out of it. She heard the cart smash into pieces against the passage wall, heard Hermione shriek something, and felt herself glide back toward the ground as though weightless, landing painlessly on the rocky passage floor.

'C-Cushioning Charm,' Kitty spluttered, as Harry pulled her to her feet. But to Kitty's horror she saw that Hermione was no longer Bellatrix; instead she stood there in overlarge robes, sopping wet and completely herself; Ron was red-haired and beardless again. They were realizing it as they looked at each other, feeling their own faces.

'The Thief's Downfall!' said Griphook, clambering to his feet and looking back the deluge onto the tracks, which, Harry knew now, had been more than water. 'It washes away all enchantment, all magical concealment! They know there are imposers in Gringotts, they have set off defenses against us!'

Harry saw Hermione checking that she still had the beaded bag, and hurriedly thrust his own hand under his jacket to make sure he had not lost the Invisibility Cloak. Then he turned to see Bogrod shaking his head in bewilderment: The Thief's Downfall seemed to have lifted his Imperius Curse.

'We need him,' said Griphook, 'we cannot enter the vault without a Gringott's goblin. And we need the clankers!'

'Imperio!' Harry said again; his voice echoed through the stone passage as he felt again the sense of heady control that flowed from brain to wand. Bogrod submitted once more to his will, his befuddled expression changing to one of polite indifference, as Ron hurried to pick up the leather bag of metal tools.

'Harry, I think I can hear people coming!' said Hermione, and she pointed Bellatrix's wand at the waterfall and cried, 'Protego!' They saw the Shield Charm break the flow of enchanted water as it flew up the passageway.

'Good thinking,' said Harry. 'Lead the way, Griphook!'

'How are we going to get out again?' Kitty asked as they hurried on foot into the darkness after the goblin, Bogrod panting in their wake like an old dog.

'Let's worry about that when we have to,' said Harry. Griphook, how much farther?'

'Not far, Harry Potter, not far ...'

And they turned a corner and saw the thing for which Harry had been prepared, but which still brought all of them to a halt.

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	34. Chapter 34

The Dragon

**Disclaimer:** I'm not Rowling.

A gigantic dragon was tethered to the ground in front of them, barring access to four or five of the deepest vaults in the place. The beast's scales had turned pale and flaky during its long incarceration under the ground, its eyes were milkily pink; both rear legs bore heavy cuffs from which chains led to enormous pegs driven deep into the rocky floor. Its great spiked wings, folded close to its body, would have filled the chamber if it spread them, and when it turned its ugly head toward them, it roared with a noise that made the rock tremble, opened its mouth, and spat a jet of fire that sent them running back up the passageway.

'It is partially blind,' panted Griphook, 'but even more savage for that. However, we have the means to control it. It has learned what to expect when the Clankers come. Give them to me.'

Ron passed the bag to Griphook, and the goblin pulled out a number of small metal instruments that when shaken made a long ringing noise like miniature hammers on anvils. Griphook handed them out: Bogrod accepted his meekly.

'You know what to do,' Griphook told Harry, Ron, and Hermione. 'It will expect pain when it hears the noise. It will retreat, and Bogrod must place his palm upon the door of the vault.'

They advanced around the corner again, shaking the Clankers, and the noise echoed off the rocky walls, grossly magnified, so that the inside of Kitty's skull seemed to vibrate with the din. The dragon let out another hoarse roar, then retreated. Kitty could see it trembling, and as they drew nearer she saw the scars made by vicious slashes across its face, and guessed that it had been taught to fear hot swords when it heard the sound of the Clankers.

'Make him press his hand to the door!' Griphook urged Harry, who turned his wand again upon Bogrod. The old goblin obeyed, pressing his palm to the wood, and the door of the vault melted away to reveal a cavelike opening crammed from floor to ceiling with golden coins and goblets, silver armor, the skins of strange creatures…some with long spines, other with drooping wings…potions in jeweled flasks, and a skull still wearing a crown.

'Search, fast!' said Harry as they all hurried inside the vault. He had described Hufflepuff's cup to Kitty, Ron and Hermione, and Kitty had shown them the picture of the Ravenclaw's diadem in _Hogwarts: a History_. He barely had time to glance around, however, before there was a muffled clunk from behind them: The door had reappeared, sealing them inside the vault, and they were plunged into total darkness.

'No matter, Bogrod will be able to release us!' said Griphook as Ron gave a shout of surprise. 'Light your wands, can't you? And hurry, we have little time!'

'Lumos!'

Kitty shone her lit wand around the vault: Its beam fell upon glittering jewels; she saw the fake sword of Gryffindor lying on a high shelf amongst a jumble of chains. Harry, Ron and Hermione had lit their wands too, and were now examining the piles of objects surrounding them.

'Harry, could this be…? Aargh!'

Kitty screamed in pain, and Harry turned his wand on her in time to see a jeweled goblet tumbling from her grip. But as it fell, it split, became a shower of goblets, so that a second later, with a great clatter, the floor was covered in identical cups rolling in every direction, the original impossible to discern amongst them.

'It burned me!' moaned Kitty, sucking her blistered fingers.

'They have added Germino and Flagrante Curses!' said Griphook.

'Everything you touch will burn and multiply, but the copies are worthless…and if you continue to handle the treasure, you will eventually be crushed to death by the weight of expanding gold!'

'Okay, don't touch anything!' said Harry desperately, but even as he said it, Ron accidentally nudged one of the fallen goblets with his foot, and twenty more exploded into being while Ron hopped on the spot, part of his shoe burned away by contact with the hot metal.

'Stand still, don't move!' said Hermione, clutching at Ron.

'Just look around!' said Harry. 'Remember, the cup's small and gold, it's got a badger engraved on it, two handles…otherwise see if you can spot the diadem…'

They directed their wands into every nook and crevice, turning cautiously on the spot. It was impossible not to brush up against anything; Harry sent a great cascade of fake Galleons onto the ground where they joined the goblets, and now there was scarcely room to place their feet, and the glowing gold blazed with heat, so that the vault felt like a furnace. Kitty's wandlight passed over shields and goblin-made helmets set on shelves rising to the ceiling; higher and higher she raised the beam, until suddenly it found an object that made her heart skip and her hand tremble.

'It's there, it's up there!' she cried.

Harry, Ron and Hermione pointed there wands at it too, so that the little golden cup sparkled in a three-way spotlight: the cup that had belonged to Helga Hufflepuff, which had passed into the possession of Hepzibah Smith, from whom it had been stolen by Tom Riddle.

'And how the hell are we going to get up there without touching anything?' asked Ron.

'Accio Cup!' cried Hermione, who had evidently forgotten in her desperation what Griphook had told them during their planning sessions.

'No use, no use!' snarled the goblin.

'Then what do we do?' said Harry, glaring at the goblin. 'If you want the sword, Griphook, then you'll have to help us more than…wait! Can I touch stuff with the sword? Hermione, give it here!'

Hermione fumbled insider her robes, drew out a beaded bag, rummaged for a few seconds, then removed the shining sword. Harry seized it by its rubied hilt and touched the tip of the blade to a silver flagon nearby, which did not multiply.

'If I can just poke the sword through a handle… but how am I going to get up there?'

The shelf on which the cup reposed was out of reach for any of them, even Ron, who was tallest. The heat from the enchanted treasure rose in waves, and sweat ran down Harry's face and back as he struggled to think of a way up to the cup; and then he heard the dragon roar on the other side of the vault door, and the sound of clanking growing louder and louder.

They were truly trapped now: There was no way out except through the door, and a horde of goblins seemed to be approaching on the other side. Harry looked at Kitty, Ron and Hermione and saw terror in their faces.

'Hermione,' said Harry, as the clanking grew louder, 'I've got to get up there, we've got to get rid of it…'

She raised her wand, pointed it at Harry, and whispered, 'Levicorpus.'

Hoisted into the air by his ankle, Harry hit a suit of armor and replicas burst out of it like white-hot bodies, filling the cramped space. With screams of pain, Kitty, Ron, Hermione, and the two goblins were knocked aside into other objects, which also began to replicate. Half buried in a rising tide of red-hot treasure, they struggled and yelled as Harry thrust the sword through the handle of Hufflepuff's cup, hooking it onto the blade.

'Impervius!' screeched Kitty in an attempt to protect herself, Ron, Hermione and the goblins from the burning metal.

Then the worst scream yet made Harry look down: Kitty, Ron and Hermione were waist deep in treasure, struggling to keep Bogrod from slipping beneath the rising tide, but Griphook had sunk out of sight; and nothing but the tips of a few long fingers were left in view.

Harry seized Griphook's fingers and pulled. The blistered goblin emerged by degrees, howling.

'Liberacorpus!' yelled Harry, and with a crash he and Griphook landed on the surface of the swelling treasure, and the sword flew out of Harry's hand.

'Get it!' Harry yelled, fighting the pain of the hot metal on his skin, as Griphook clambered onto his shoulders again, determined to avoid the swelling mass of red-hot objects. 'Where's the sword? It had the cup on it!'

The clanking on the other side of the door was growing deafening…it was too late…

'There!'

It was Griphook who had seen it and Griphook who lunged, and in that instant Kitty knew that the goblin had never expected them to keep their word. One hand holding tightly to a fistful of Harry's hair, to make sure he did not fall into the heaving sea of burning gold, Griphook seized the hilt of the sword and swung it high out of Harry's reach. The tiny golden cup, skewered by the handle on the sword's blade was flung into the air. The goblin astride him, Harry dived and caught it, and although he could feel it scalding his flesh he did not relinquish it, even while countless Hufflepuff cups burst from his fist, raining down upon him as the entrance of the vault opened up again and he found himself sliding uncontrollably on an expanding avalanche of fiery gold and silver that bore him, Kitty, Ron, Hermione into the outer chamber.

Hardly aware of the pain from the burns covering his body, and still borne along the swell of replicating treasure, Harry shoved the cup into his pocket and reached up to retrieve the sword, but Griphook was gone. Sliding from Harry's shoulders the moment he could, he had sprinted for cover amongst the surrounding goblins, brandishing the sword and crying, 'Thieves! Thieves! Help! Thieves!' He vanished into the midst of the advancing crowd, all of whom were holding daggers and who accepted him without question.

Slipping on the hot metal, Harry struggled to his feet and knew that the only way out was through.

'Stupefy!' he bellowed, and Kitty, Ron and Hermione joined in: Jets of red light flew into the crowd of goblins, and some toppled over, but others advanced, and Kitty saw several wizard guards running around the corner.

The tethered dragon let out a roar, and a gush of flame flew over the goblins; the wizards fled, doubled-up, back the way they had come, and inspiration, or madness, came to Harry. Pointing his wand at the thick cuffs chaining the beast to the floor, he yelled, 'Relashio!'

The cuffs broken open with loud bangs.

'This way!' Harry yelled, and still shooting Stunning Spells at the advancing goblins, he sprinted toward the blind dragon, pulling Kitty by the hand.

'Harry…Harry…what are you doing?' cried Hermione.

"Get up, climb up, come on ¨C "

The dragon had not realized that it was free: Harry's foot found the crook of its hind leg and he pulled himself up onto its back. The scales were hard as steel; it did not even seem to feel him. He stretched out an arm; Hermione and Kitty hoisted themselves up; Ron climbed on behind them, and a second later the dragon became aware that it was untethered.

With a roar it reared: Harry dug in his knees, clutching as tightly as he could to the jagged scales as the wings opened, knocking the shrieking goblins aside like skittles, and it soared into the air. Harry, Kitty, Ron, and Hermione, flat on its back, scraped against the ceiling as it dived toward the passage opening, while the pursuing goblins hurled daggers that glanced off its flanks.

'We'll never get out, it's too big!' Kitty screamed, but the dragon opened its mouth and belched flame again, blasting the tunnel, whose floors and ceiling cracked and crumbled. By sheer force, the dragon clawed and fought its way through. Kitty's eyes were shut tight against the heat and dust: deafened by the crash of rock and the dragon's roars, she could only cling to its back, expecting to be shaken off at any moment; then she heard Hermione yelling, 'Defodio!'

She was helping the dragon enlarge the passageway, carving out the ceiling as it struggled upward toward the fresher air, away from the shrieking and clanking goblins: Harry, Kitty and Ron copied her, blasting the ceiling apart with more gouging spells. They passed the underground lake, and the great crawling, snarling beast seemed to sense freedom and space ahead of it, and behind them the passage was full of the dragon's thrashing, spiked tail, of great lumps of rock, gigantic fractured stalactites, and the clanking of the goblins seemed to be growing more muffled, while ahead, the dragon's fire kept their progress clear…

And then at last, by the combined force of their spells and the dragon's brute strength, they had blasted their way out of the passage into the marble hallway. Goblins and wizards shrieked and ran for cover, and finally the dragon had room to stretch its wings: Turning its horned head toward the cool outside air it could smell beyond the entrance, it took off, and with Harry, Kitty, Ron, and Hermione still clinging to its back, it forced its way through the metal doors, leaving them buckled and hanging from their hinges, as it staggered into Diagon Alley and launched itself into the sky.

'That was the most mental thing we have ever done!' said Ron weakly.

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	35. Chapter 35

Off to Hogwarts

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

'We'll have to jump,' said Harry, looking below.

'What!' said Kitty incredulously, 'You can't be serious.'

'Do you want it to realize we're here?' said Harry, 'And besides, who knows when it's going to land?'

'Alright,' said Ron, 'There's a lake, when we get over it, we'll jump, okay?'

'Yes,' said Hermione, and Kitty moaned in faint agreement.

'Okay…' said Harry, 'NOW!'

Kitty slithered off the side of the dragon and plummeted feetfirst toward the surface of the lake; the drop was greater than she had estimated and she hit the water hard, plunging like a stone into a freezing, green, reed-filled world. She kicked toward the surface and emerged, panting, to see enormous ripples emanating in circles from the places where Harry, Ron and Hermione had fallen. The dragon did not seem to have noticed anything; it was already fifty feet away, swooping low over the lake to scoop up water in its scarred snout. As Harry, Ron and Hermione emerged, spluttering and gasping, from the depths of the lake, the dragon flew on, its wings beating hard, and landed at last on a distant bank.

They struck out for the opposite shore. The lake did not seem to be deep. Soon it was more a question of fighting their way through reeds and mud than swimming, and at last they flopped, sodden, panting, and exhausted, onto slippery grass.

Kitty collapsed, coughing and shuddering. Though she could have happily lain down and slept, she staggered to her feet, drew out her wand, and started casting the usual protective spells around them.

When she had finished, she joined the others. She looked down at her arms ad saw that she had angry red burns and her clothing was singed away in places. Harry, Ron and Hermione looked just like she did. They were wincing as they dabbed essence of dittany onto their many injuries. Hermione handed Harry the bottle, then pulled out four bottles of pumpkin juice she had brought from Shell Cottage and clean, dry robes for all of them. They changed and then gulped down the juice.

'Well, on the upside,' said Ron finally, who was sitting watching the skin on his hands regrow, 'we got the Horcrux. On the downside-'

'…no sword,' said Harry through gritted teeth, as he dripped dittany through the singed hole in his jeans onto the angry burn beneath.

'No sword,' repeated Kitty. 'That double-crossing little scab...'

Harry pulled the Horcrux from the pocket of the wet jacket he had just taken off and set it down on the grass in front of them. Glinting in the sun, it drew their eyes as they swigged their bottles of juice.

'At least we can't wear it this time, that'd look a bit weird hanging around our necks,' said Kitty.

Hermione looked across the lake to the far bank where the dragon was still drinking.

'What'll happen to it, do you think?' she asked, 'Will it be alright?'

'You sound like Hagrid,' said Ron, 'It's a dragon, Hermione, it can look after itself. It's us we need to worry about.'

'What do you mean?'

'Well I don't know how to break this to you,' said Ron, 'but I think they might have noticed we broke into Gringotts.'

All four of them started to laugh, and once started, it was difficult to stop. Kitty's ribs ached, she felt lightheaded with hunger, but she lay back on the grass beneath the reddening sky and laughed until her throat was raw.

'What are we going to do, though?' said Hermione finally, hiccuping herself back to seriousness. 'He'll know, won't he? You-Know-Who will know we know that we've got another Horcrux!'

'Maybe they'll cover up…'

The sky, the smell of the lake water, the sound of Ron's voice were extinguished. Pain cleaved Harry's head like a sword stroke.

He was standing in a dimly lit room, and a semicircle of wizards faced him, and on the floor at his feet knelt a small, quaking figure.

'What did you say to me?' His voice was high and cold, but fury and fear burned inside him. The one thing that he had dreaded but it could not be true, he could not see how...

The goblin was trembling, unable to meet the red eyes high above his.

'Say it again!' murmured Voldemort. 'Say it again!'

'M-my Lord,' stammered the goblin, its black eyes wide with terror, 'm-my Lord... we t-tried to st-stop them... Im-impostors, my Lord... broke -broke into the…into the Lestranges' vault...'

'Impostors? What impostors? I thought Gringotts had ways of revealing impostors? Who were they?'

'It was... it was... the P-Potter b-boy and the t-three accomplices...'

'And they took?" he said, his voice rising, a terrible fear gripping him, 'Tell me! What did they take?'

'A... a s-small golden c-cup m-my Lord...'

The scream of rage, of denial left him as if it were a stranger's. He was crazed, frenzied, it could not be true, it was impossible, nobody had known. How was it possible that the boy could have discovered his secret?

The Elder Wand slashed through the air and green light erupted through the room; the kneeling goblin rolled over dead; the watching wizards scattered before him, terrified. Bellatrix and Lucius Malfoy threw others behind them in their race for the door, and again and again his wand fell, and those who were left were slain, all of them, for bringing him this news, for hearing about the golden cup - Alone amongst the dead he stomped up and down, and they passed before him in vision: his treasures, his safeguards, his anchors to immortality…the diary was destroyed, the locket and the cup were stolen. What if, what if, the boy knew about the others? Could he know, had he already acted, had he traced more of them? Was Dumbledore at the root of this? Dumbledore, who had always suspected him; Dumbledore, dead on his orders; Dumbledore, whose wand was his now, yet who reached out from the ignominy of death through the boy, the boy -

But surely if the boy had destroyed any of his Horcruxes, he, Lord Voldemort, would have known, would have felt it? He, the greatest wizard of them all; he, the most powerful; he, the killer of Dumbledore and of how many other worthless, nameless men. How could Lord Voldemort not have known, if he, himself, most important and precious, had been attacked, mutilated?

True, he had not felt it when the diary had been destroyed, but he had thought that was because he had no body to fell, being less than ghost... No, surely, the rest were safe... The other Horcruxes must be intact...

But he must know, he must be sure... He paced the room, kicking aside the goblin's corpse as he passed, and the pictures blurred and burned in his boiling brain: the lake, the shack, and Hogwarts -

A modicum of calm cooled his rage now. How could the boy know that he had hidden the ring in the Gaunt shack? No one had ever known him to be related to the Gaunts, he had hidden the connection, the killings had never been traced to him. The ring, surely, was safe.

As for the school: He alone knew where in Hogwarts he had stowed the Horcrux, because he alone had plumed the deepest secrets of that place...

And there was still Nagini, who must remain close now, no longer sent to do his bidding, under his protection...

But to be sure, to be utterly sure, he must return to each of his hiding places, he must redouble protection around each of his Horcruxes... A job, like the quest for the Elder Wand, that he must undertake alone...

Which should he visit first, which was in most danger? An old unease flickered inside him. Dumbledore had known his middle name... Dumbledore might have made the connection with the Gaunts... Their abandoned home was, perhaps, the least secure of his hiding places, it was there that he would go first...

Hogwarts... but he knew that his Horcrux there was safe; it would be impossible for Potter to enter Hogsmeade without detection, let alone the school. Nevertheless, it would be prudent to alert Snape to the fact that the boy might try to reenter the castle... To tell Snape why the boy might return would be foolish, of course; it had been a grave mistake to trust Bellatrix and Malfoy. Didn't their stupidity and carelessness prove how unwise it was ever to trust?

He would visit the Gaunt shack first, then, and take Nagini with him. He would not be parted from the snake anymore... and he strode from the room, through the hall, and out into the dark garden where the fountain played; he called the snake in Parseltongue and it slithered out to join him like a long shadow...

Harry's eyes flew open as he wrenched himself back to the present. He was lying on the bank of the lake in the setting sun, and Kitty, Ron and Hermione were looking down at him. Judging by their worried looks, and by the continued pounding of his scar, his sudden excursion into Voldemort's mind had not passed unnoticed. He struggled up, shivering, vaguely surprised that he was still wet to his skin, and saw the cup lying innocently in the grass before him, and the lake, deep blue shot with gold in the falling sun.

'He knows.' His own voice sounded strange and low after Voldemort's high screams. 'He knows we got the cup, he already knew of the locket and he's going to check where the others are, and the last one,' he was already on his feet, 'is at Hogwarts. I knew it. I knew it.'

'What?'

Ron was gaping at him; Hermione and Kitty sat up, looking worried.

'But what did you see? How do you know?'

'I saw him find out about the cup, I…I was in his head, he's…' Harry remembered the killings '…he's seriously angry, and scared too, he can't understand how we knew, and now he's going to check the others are safe, the ring first. He things the Hogwarts one is safest, because Snape's there, because it'll be so hard not to be seen getting in, but he could still be there within hours…'

'Did you see where in Hogwarts it is?' asked Ron, now scrambling to his feet too.

'No, he was concentrating on warning Snape, he didn't think about exactly where it is…'

'Wait, wait!' cried Hermione as Ron caught up to the Horcrux, Kitty got to her feet and Harry pulled out the Invisibility Cloak again. 'We can't just go, we haven't got a plan, we need to…'

'We need to get going,' said Harry firmly. He had been hoping to sleep, looking forward to getting into the new tent, but that was impossible now, 'Can you imagine what he's going to do once he realizes the ring and the locket are gone? What if he moves the Hogwarts Horcrux, decides it isn't safe enough?'

'But how are we going to get in?'

'We'll go to Hogsmeade,' said Harry, 'and try to work something out once we see what the protection around the school's like. Get under the Cloak, I want to stick together this time.'

'But the four of us don't really fit…'

'It'll be dark, no one's going to notice our feet.'

The flapping of enormous wings echoed across the black water. The dragon had drunk its fill and risen into the air. They paused in their preparations to watch it climb higher and higher, now black against the rapidly darkening sky, until it vanished over a nearby mountain. Then Hermione walked forward and took her place between the other three, Harry pulled the Cloak down as far as it would go, and together they turned on the spot into the crushing darkness.

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	36. Chapter 36

Aberforth Dumbledore

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

Kitty's feet touched the road. She saw the achingly familiar Hogsmeade High Street: dark shop fronts, and the mist line of black mountains beyond the village and the curve in the road ahead that led off toward Hogwarts, and light spilling from the windows of the Three Broomsticks.

The air was rent by a scream which tore at every nerve in Kitty's body, and she knew that their appearance had caused it.

Even as she looked at the other three beneath the Cloak, the door of the Three Broomsticks burst open and a dozen cloaked and hooded Death Eaters dashed into the streets, their wands aloft.

Harry seized Ron's wrist as he raised his wand; there were too many of them to run. Even attempting it would have give away their position. One of the Death Eaters raised his wand, and the scream stopped, still echoing around the distant mountains.

'Accio Cloak!' roared one of the Death Eaters Harry seized his folds, but it made no attempt to escape. The Summoning Charm had not worked on it.

'Not under your wrapper, then, Potter?' yelled the Death Eater who had tried the charm and then to his fellows. 'Spread now. He's here.'

Six of the Death Eaters ran toward them: Harry, Kitty, Ron and Hermione backed as quickly as possible down the nearest side street, and the Death Eaters missed them by inches. They waited in the darkness, listening to the footsteps running up and down, beams of light flying along the street from the Death Eaters' searching wands.

'Let's just leave!' Hermione whispered. 'Disapparate now!'

'Great idea,' said Ron, but before Harry could reply, a Death Eater shouted, 'We know you are here, Potter, and there's no getting away! We'll find you!'

'They were ready for us,' whispered Harry. 'They set up that spell to tell them we'd come. I reckon they've done something to keep us here, trap us…'

'What about dementors?' called another Death Eater. 'Let'em have free rein, they'd find him quick enough!'

'The Dark Lord wants Potter dead by no hands but his…'

' 'an dementors won't kill him! The Dark Lord wants Potter's life, nor his soul. He'll be easier to kill if he's been Kissed first!'

There were noises of agreement. Dread filled Harry: To repel dementors they would have to produce Patronuses which would give them away immediately.

'We're going to have to try to Disapparate, Harry!' Kitty whispered.

Even as she said it, Harry felt the unnatural cold being spread over the street. Light was sucked from the environment right up to the stars, which vanished. In the pitch blackness, he felt Hermione take hold of his arm and together, they turned on the spot.

The air through which they needed to move, seemed to have become solid: They could not Disapparate; the Death Eaters had cast their charms well. The cold was biting deeper and deeper into Kitty's flesh. He, Kitty, Ron and Hermione retreated down the side street, groping their way along the wall trying not to make a sound. Then, around the corner, gliding noiselessly, came dementors, ten or more of them, visible because they were of a denser darkness than their surroundings, with their black cloaks and their scabbed and rotting hands. Could they sense fear in the vicinity? Kitty was sure of it: They seemed to be coming more quickly now, taking those dragging, rattling breaths he detested, tasting despair in the air, closing in - He raised his wand: He could not, would not suffer the Dementor's Kiss, whatever happened afterward. It was of Kitty, Ron and Hermione that he thought as he whispered 'Expecto Patronum!'

The silver stag burst from his wand and charged: The Dementors scattered and there was a triumphant yell from somewhere out of sight

'It's him, down there, down there, I saw his Patronus, it was a stag!'

The Dementors have retreated, the stars were popping out again and the footsteps of the Death Eaters were becoming louder; but before Harry in his panic could decide what to do, there was a grinding of bolts nearby, a door opened on the left-side of the narrow street, and a rough voice said: 'Potter, in here, quick!'

He obeyed without hesitation, the four of them hurried through the open doorway.

'Upstairs, keep the Cloak on, keep quiet!' muttered a tall figure, passing them on his way into the street and slammed the door behind him.

Kitty had had no idea where they were, but now she saw, by the stuttering light of a single candle, the grubby, sawdust bar of the Hog's Head Inn. They ran behind the counter and through a second doorway, which led to a trickery wooden staircase that they climbed as fast as they could. The stairs opened into a sitting room with a durable carpet and a small fireplace, above which hung a single large oil painting of a blonde girl who gazed out at the room with a kind of a vacant sweetness.

Shouts reached from the streets below. Still wearing the Invisibility Cloak on, they hurried toward the grimy window and looked down. Their savior, whom Kitty now recognized as the Hog's Head's barman, was the only person not wearing a hood.

'So what?' he was bellowing into one of the hooded faces. 'So what? You send dementors down my street, I'll send a Patronus back at'em! I'm not having'em near me, I've told you that. I'm not having it!'

'That wasn't your Patronus,' said a Death Eater. 'That was a stag. It was Potter's!'

'Stag!' roared the barman, and he pulled out a wand. 'Stag! You idiot…Expecto Patronum!'

Something huge and horned erupted from the wand. Head down, it charged toward the High Street, and out of sight.

'That's not what I saw,' said the Death Eater, though was less certainly 'Curfew's been broken, you heard the noise,' one of his companions told the barman. 'Someone was out on the streets against regulations…'

'If I want to put my cat out, I will, and be damned to your curfew!'

'You set off the Caterwauling Charm?'

'What if I did? Going to cart me off to Azkaban? Kill me for sticking my nose out my own front door? Do it, then, if you want to! But I hope for your sakes you haven't pressed your little Dark Marks, and summoned him. He's not going to like being called here, for me and my old cat, is he, now?'

'Don't worry about us,' said one of the Death Eaters, 'worry about yourself, breaking curfew!'

'And where will you lot traffic potions and poisons when my pub's closed down? What will happen to your little sidelines then?'

'Are you threatening…'

'I keep my mouth shut, it's why you come here, isn't it?'

'I still say I saw a stag Patronus!' shouted the first Death Eater.

'Stag?' roared the barman. 'It's a goat, idiot!'

'All right, we made a mistake,' said the second Death Eater. 'Break curfew again and we won't be so lenient!'

The Death Eaters strode back towards the High Street. Kitty moaned with relief, wove out from under the Cloak, and sat down on a wobble-legged chair. Harry drew the curtains then pulled the Cloak off himself, Hermione and Ron. They could hear the barman down below, rebolting the door of the bar, then climbing the stairs.

Harry's attention was caught by something on the mantelpiece: a small, rectangular mirror, propped on top of it, right beneath the portrait of the girl.

The barman entered the room.

'You bloody fools,' he said gruffly, looking from one to the other of them. 'What were you thinking, coming here?'

'Thank you,' said Harry. 'We can't thank you enough. You saved our lives!'

The barman grunted. Harry approached him looking up into the face: trying to see past the long, stringy, wire-gray hair beard. He wore spectacles. Behind the dirty lenses, the eyes were a piercing, brilliant blue.

'It's your eye I've been seeing in the mirror.'

There was a silence in the room. Harry and the barman looked at each other. Then turned away, lightning lamps with prods of his wand, not looking at any of them.

'You're Aberforth,' said Harry to the man's back.

He neither confirmed or denied it, but bent to light the fire.

'How did you get this?' Harry asked, walking across to Sirius's mirror, the twin of the one he had broken nearly two years before.

'Bought it from Dung 'bout a year ago,' said Aberforth. 'Albus told me what it was. Been trying to keep an eye out for you.'

Ron gasped.

'The silver doe,' he said excitedly, 'Was that you too?'

'What are you talking about?' asked Aberforth.

'Someone sent a doe Patronus to us!'

'Brains like that, you could be a Death Eater, son. Haven't I just proved my Patronus is a goat?'

'Oh,' said Ron, 'Yeah... well, I'm hungry!' he added defensively as his stomach gave an enormous rumble.

'I got food,' said Aberforth, and he sloped out of the room, reappearing moments later with a large loaf of bread, some cheese, and a pewter jug of mead, which he set upon a small table in front of the fire.

Ravenous, they ate and drank, and for a while there was sound of chewing.

'Right then,' said Aberforth when they had eaten their fill and Harry and Ron sat slumped dozily in their chairs. 'We need to think of the best way to get you out of here. Can't be done by night, you heard what happens if anyone moves outdoors during darkness: Caterwauling Charm's set off; they'll be onto you like bowtruckles on doxy eggs. I don't reckon I'll be able to pass of a stag as a goat a second time. Wait for daybreak when curfew lifts, then you can put your Cloak back on and set out on foot. Get right out of Hogsmeade, up into the mountains, and you'll be able to Disapparate there. Might see Hagrid. He's been hiding in a cave up there with Grawp ever since they tried to arrest him.'

'We're not leaving,' said Kitty. 'We need to get into Hogwarts.'

'Don't be stupid, girl,' said Aberforth.

'We've got to,' said Harry.

'What you've got to do,' said Aberforth, leaning forward, 'is to get as far from here as from here as you can.'

'You don't understand. There isn't much time. We've got to get into the castle. Dumbledore, I mean, your brother…wanted us…'

'My brother Albus wanted a lot of things,' said Aberforth, 'and people had a habit of getting hurt while he was carrying out his grand plans. You get away from this school, Potter, and out of the country if you can. Forget my brother and his clever schemes. He's gone where none of this can hurt him, and you don't owe him anything.'

'You don't understand,' said Harry again.

'Oh, don't I?' said Aberforth quietly. 'You don't think I understood my own brother? Think you know Albus better than I did?'

'I didn't mean that,' said Harry, whose brain felt sluggish with exhaustion and from the surfeit of food and wine. 'It's... he left me a job.'

'Did he now?' said Aberforth. 'Nice job, I hope? Pleasant? Easy? Sort of thing you'd expect an unqualified wizard kid to be able to do without overstretching themselves?'

Ron gave a rather grim laugh. Hermione was looking strained.

'I-it's not easy, no,' said Harry. 'But I've got to…'

'Got to? Why got to? He's dead, isn't he?' said Aberforth roughly. 'Let it go, boy, before you follow him! Save yourself!'

'I can't.'

'Why not?'

'I…' Harry felt overwhelmed; he could not explain, so he took the offensive instead. 'But you're fighting too, you're in the Order of the Phoenix…'

'I was,' said Aberforth. 'The Order of the Phoenix is finished. You-Know-Who's won, it's over, and anyone who's pretending different's kidding themselves. It'll never be safe for you here, Potter, he wants you too badly. So go abroad, go into hiding, save yourself. Best take these three with you." He jerked a thumb at Kitty, Ron and Hermione.

'They'll be in danger long as they live now everyone knows they've been working with you.'

'I can't leave,' said Harry. 'I've got a job…'

'Give it to someone else!'

'I can't. It's got to be me, Dumbledore explained it all…'

'Oh, did he now? And did he tell you everything, was he honest with you?'

Harry wanted him with all his heart to say 'Yes,' but somehow the simple word would not rise to his lips, Aberforth seemed to know what he was thinking.

'I knew my brother, Potter. He learned secrecy at our mother's knee. Secrets and lies, that's how we grew up, and Albus... he was a natural.'

The old man's eyes traveled to the painting of the girl over the mantelpiece. It was, now Kitty looked around properly, the only picture in the room. There was no photograph of Albus Dumbledore, nor of anyone else.

'Mr. Dumbledore,' said Hermione rather timidly. 'Is that your sister? Ariana?'

'Yes.' said Aberforth tersely. 'Been reading Rita Skeeter, have you, missy?'

Even by the rosy light of the fire it was clear that Hermione had turned red.

'Elphias Doge mentioned her to us,' said Harry, trying to spare Hermione.

'That old git,' muttered Aberforth, taking another swig of mead. 'Thought the sun shone out of my brother's every orifice, he did. Well, so did plenty of people, you three included, by the looks of it.'

Harry kept quiet. He did not want to express the doubts and uncertainties about Dumbledore that had riddled him for months now. He had made his choice while he dug Dobby's grave, he had decided to continue along the winding, dangerous path indicated for him by Albus Dumbledore, to accept that he had not been told everything that he wanted to know, but simply to trust. He had no desire to doubt again; he did not want o hear anything that would deflect him from his purpose. He met Aberforth's gaze, which was so strikingly like his brothers': The bright blue eyes gave the same impression that they were X-raying the object of their scrutiny, and Harry thought that Aberforth knew what he was thinking and despised him for it.

'Professor Dumbledore cared about Harry, very much,' said Hermione in a low voice.

'Did he now?' said Aberforth. 'Funny thing how many of the people my brother cared about very much ended up in a worse state than if he'd left 'em well alone.'

'What do you mean?' asked Kitty breathlessly.

'Never you mind,' said Aberforth.

'But that's a really serious thing to say!' said Hermione. 'Are you…are you talking about your sister?'

Aberforth glared at her: His lips moved as if he were chewing the words he was holding back. Then he burst into speech.

'When my sister was six years old, she was attacked, by three Muggle boys. They'd seen her doing magic, spying through the back garden hedge: She was a kid, she couldn't control it, no witch or wizard can at that age. What they saw, scared them, I expect. They forced their way through the hedge, and when she couldn't show them the trick, they… got a bit carried away trying to stop the little freak doing it.'

Hermione's eyes were huge in the firelight; Ron looked slightly sick. Aberforth stood up, tall as Albus, and suddenly terrible in his anger and the intensity of his pain.

'It destroyed her, what they did: She was never right again. She wouldn't use magic, but she couldn't get rid of it; it turned inward and drove her mad, it exploded out of her when she couldn't control it, and at times she was strange and dangerous. But mostly she was sweet and scared and harmless.'

'And my father went after the bastards that did it,' said Aberforth, 'and attacked them. And they locked him up in Azkaban for it. He never said why he'd done it, because the Ministry had known what Ariana had become, she'd have been locked up in St. Mungo's for good. They'd have seen her as a serious threat to the International Statute of Secrecy, unbalanced like she was, with magic exploding out of her at moments when she couldn't keep it in any longer.'

'We had to keep her safe and quiet. We moved house, put it about she was ill, and my mother looked after her, and tried to keep her calm and happy.'

'I was her favourite,' he said, and as he said it, a grubby schoolboy seemed to look out through Aberforth's wrinkles and wrangled beard. 'Not Albus, he was always up in his bedroom when he was home, reading his books and counting his prizes, keeping up with his correspondence with the most notable magical names of the day.'

Aberforth succored. 'He didn't want to be bothered with her. She liked me best. I could get her to eat when she wouldn't do it for my mother, I could calm her down, when she was in one of her rages, and when she was quiet, she used to help me feed the goats.'

'Then, when she was fourteen... See, I wasn't there,' said Aberforth. 'If I'd been there, I could have calmed her down. She had one of her rages, and my mother wasn't as young as she was, and... it was an accident. Ariana couldn't control it. But my mother was killed.'

Kitty felt a horrible mixture of pity and repulsion; he did not want to hear any more, but Aberforth kept talking, and she wondered how long it had been since he had spoken about this; whether, in fact, he had ever spoken about it.

'So that put paid to Albus's trip round the world with little Doge. The pair of 'em came home for my mother's funeral and then Doge went off on his own, and Albus settled down as head of the family. Ha!'

Aberforth spat into the fire.

'I'd have looked after her, I told him so, I didn't care about school, I'd have stayed home and done it. He told me I had to finish my education and he'd take over from my mother. Bit of a comedown for Mr. Brilliant, there's no prizes for looking after your half-mad sister, stopping her blowing up the house every other day. But he did all right for a few weeks... till he came.'

And now a positively dangerous look crept over Aberforth's face.

'Grindelwald. And at last, my brother had an equal to talk to someone just as bright and talented he was. And looking after Ariana took a backseat then, while they were hatching all their plans for a new Wizarding order and looking for Hallows, and whatever else it was they were so interested in. Grand plans for the benefit of all Wizardkind, and if one young girl neglected, what did that matter, when Albus was working for the greater good?'

'But after a few weeks of it, I'd had enough, I had. It was nearly time for me to go hack to Hogwarts, so I told 'em, both of 'em, face-to-face, like I am to you, now,' and Aberforth looked downward Harry, and it took a little imagination to see him as a teenager, wiry and angry, confronting his elder brother. 'I told him, you'd better give it up now. You can't move her, she's in no fit state, you can't take her with you, wherever it is you're planning to go, when you're making your clever speeches, trying to whip yourselves up a following. He didn't like that,' said Aberforth, and his eyes were briefly occluded by the fireflight on the lenses of his glasses: They turned white and blind again. 'Grindelwald didn't like that at all. He got angry. He told me what a stupid little boy I was, trying to stand in the way of him and my brilliant brother... Didn't I understand, my poor sister wouldn't have to be hidden once they'd changed the world, and led the wizards out of hiding, and taught the Muggles their place?'

'And there was an argument... and I pulled my wand, and he pulled out his, and I had the Cruciatus Curse used on me by my brother's best friend…and Albus was trying to stop him, and then all three of us were dueling, and the flashing lights and the bangs set her off, she couldn't stand it…'

The color was draining from Aberforth's face as though he had suffered a mortal wound.

'…and I think she wanted to help, but she didn't really know what she was doing, and I don't know which of us did it, it could have been any of us…and she was dead.'

His voice broke on the last word and he dropped down into the nearest chair. Kitty was holding her head in her hands, Hermione's face was wet with tears, and Ron was almost as pale as Aberforth. Harry felt nothing but revulsion: He wished he had not heard it, wished he could wash his mind clean of it.

'I'm so... I'm so sorry,' Hermione whispered.

'Gone,' croaked Aberforth. 'Gone forever.'

He wiped his nose on hiss cuff and cleared his throat.

' 'Course, Grindelwald scarpered. He had a bit of a track record already, back in his own country, and he didn't want Ariana set to his account too. And Albus was free, wasn't he? Free of the burden of his sister, free to become the greatest wizard of the…'

'He was never free,' said Harry.

'I beg your pardon?' said Aberforth.

'Never,' said Harry. 'The night that your brother died, he drank a potion that drove him out of his mind. He started screaming, pleading with someone who wasn't there. Don't hurt them, please... hurt me instead.'

Kitty remembered that day in the cave. Ron and Hermione were staring at Harry. He had never gone into details about what had happened on the island on the lake. The events that had taken place after he and Dumbledore had returned to Hogwarts had eclipsed it so thoroughly.

'He thought he was back there with you and Grindelwald, I know he did,' said Harry, remembering Dumbledore whispering, pleading. He thought he was watching Grindelwald hurting you and Ariana... It was torture to him, if you'd seen him then, you wouldn't say he was free.'

Aberforth seemed lost in contemplation of his own knotted and veined hands. After a long pause he said. 'How can you be sure, Potter, that my brother wasn't more interested in the greater good than in you? How can you be sure you aren't dispensable, just like my little sister?'

A shard of ice seemed to pierce Harry's heart.

'I don't believe it. Dumbledore loved Harry,' said Hermione.

'Why didn't he tell him to hide, then?' shot back Aberforth. 'Why didn't he say to him, 'Take care of yourself, here's how to survive'?'

'Because,' said Harry before Hermione could answer, 'sometimes you've got to think about more than your own safety! Sometimes you've got to think about the greater good! This is war!'

'You're seventeen, boy!'

'I'm of age, and I'm going to keep fighting even if you've given up!'

'Who says I've given up?'

'The Order of the Phoenix is finished,' Harry repeated, 'You-Know-Who's won, it's over, and anyone who's pretending different's kidding themselves.'

'I don't say I like it, but it's the truth!'

'No, it isn't,' said Harry. 'Your brother knew how to finish You-Know-Who and he passed the knowledge on to me. I'm going to keep going until I succeed…or I die. Don't think I don't know how this might end. I've known it for years.'

He waited for Aberforth to jeer or to argue, but he did not. He merely moved.

'We need to get into Hogwarts,' said Harry again. 'If you can't help us, we'll wait till daybreak, leave you in peace, and try to find a way in ourselves. If you can help us…well, now would be a great time to mention it.'

Aberforth remained fixed in his chair, gazing at Harry with the eye, that were so extraordinarily like his brother's. At last he cleared his throat, got to his feet, walked around the little table, and approached the portrait of Ariana.

'You know what to do,' he said.

She smiled, turned, and walked away, not as people in portraits usually did, one of the sides of their frames, but along what seemed to be a long tunnel painted behind her. They watched her slight figure retreating until finally she was swallowed by the darkness.

'Er…what…?' began Ron.

'There's only one way in now,' said Aberforth. 'You must know they've got all the old secret passageways covered at both ends, dementors all around the boundary walls, regular patrols inside the school from what my sources tell me. The place has never been so heavily guarded. How you expect to do anything once you get inside it, with Snape in charge and the Carrows as his deputies... well, that's your lookout, isn't it? You say you're prepared to die.'

'But what...?' said Hermione, frowning at Ariana's picture.

A tiny white dot reappeared at the end of the painted tunnel, and now Ariana was walking back toward them, growing bigger and bigger as she came. But there was somebody else with her now, someone taller than she was, who was limping along, looking excited. Larger and larger the two figures grew, until only their heads and shoulders filled the portrait.

Then the whole thing swang forward on the wall like a little door, and the entrance to a real tunnel was revealed. And out of it, his hair overgrown, his face cut, his robes ripped, clambered the real Neville Longbottom, who gave a roar of delight, leapt down from the mantelpiece and yelled.

'I knew you'd come! I knew it, Harry!'

_Please review!_


	37. Chapter 37

The DA again

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

'Neville…what the…how…?'

But Neville had spotted Kitty, Ron and Hermione, and with yells of delight was hugging them too. The longer Kitty looked at Neville, the worse he appeared: One of his eyes was swollen yellow and purple, there were gouge marks on his face, and his general air of unkemptness suggested that he had been living enough. Nevertheless, his battered visage shone with happiness as he let go of Hermione and said again, 'I knew you'd come! Kept telling Seamus it was a matter of time!'

'Neville, what's happened to you?'

'What? This?' Neville dismissed his injuries with a shake of the head. 'This is nothing, Seamus is worse. You'll see. Shall we get going then? Oh,' he turned to Aberforth, 'Ab, there might be a couple more people to the way.'

'Couple more?' repeated Aberforth ominously. 'What d'you mean, a couple more, Longbottom? There's a curfew and a Caterwaulding Charm on the whole village!'

'I know, that's why they'll be Apparating directly into the bar,' said Neville. 'Just send them down the passage when they get here, will you? Thanks a lot.'

Neville held out his hand to Hermione and helped her to climb up onto the mantelpiece and into the tunnel; Ron followed, then Neville and then Kitty. Harry addressed Aberforth.

'I don't know how to thank you. You've saved our lives twice.'

'Look after 'em, then,' said Aberforth gruffly. 'I might not be able to save 'em a third time.'

Harry chambered up onto the mantelpiece and through the hole behind Ariana's portrait. There were smooth stone steps on the other side: It looked as though the passageway had been there for years. Brass lamps hung from the walls and the earthy floor was worn and smooth; as they walked, their shadows rippled, fanlike, across the wall.

'How long's this been here?' Kitty asked as they set off. 'It isn't on the Marauder's Map. I thought there were only seven passages in and out of school?'

'They sealed off all of those before the start of the year,' said Neville. 'There's no chance of getting through any of them now, not with the curses over the entrances and Death Eaters and dementors waiting at the exits.' He started walking backward, beaming, drinking them in. 'Never mind that stuff ... Is it true? Did you break into Gringotts? Did you escape on a dragon? It's everywhere, everyone's talking about it, Terry Boot got beaten up by Carrow for yelling about it in the Great Hall at dinner! Oh!'

'What?' said Hermione.

'There's some bad news for you Kitty,' said Neville.

'What is it?' said Kitty quickly, thinking of Draco.

'It's about your friend, Dennis.'

'What about him?'

'He...he's dead.'

No one said anything for a minute. Then Kitty asked in a trembling voice, 'Who was it?'

'I dunno, Kitty,' said Neville, 'He never returned after Christmas. They said his family was on the run. It came out in the Prophet three days earlier, that his family was murdered by the Death Eaters.'

'Colin, too?' said Harry, remembering the mousy haired boy who used to pester him in their second year.

'Yes,' said Neville.

'But, no one t—told me,' said Kitty, burying her face in her hands.

'No one reads the Prophet these days. And the news just came out three days earlier,' said Neville.

'I'm really sorry, Kitty,' said Neville. Harry put his arm around Kitty and said, 'We'll get all the pricks who did it, I promise, Kitty. But we have to go now.'

Kitty nodded and wiped her tears. What times were these, she thought, where one could did not even have time to mourn for one's dead friends.

'Tell us about Hogwarts, Neville, we haven't heard anything,' said Ron.

'It's been ... Well, it's not really like Hogwarts anymore,' said Neville, the smile fading from his face as he spoke. 'Do you know about the Carrows?'

'Those two Death Eaters who teach here?'

'They do more than teach," said Neville. "They're in charge of all discipline. They like punishment, the Carrows.'

'Like Umbridge?'

'Nah, they make her look tame. The other teachers are all supposed to refer us to the Carrows if we do anything wrong. They don't, though, if they can avoid it. You can tell they all hate them as much as we do.'

'Amycus, the bloke, he teaches what used to be Defense Against the Dark Arts, except now it's just the Dark Arts. We're supposed to practice the Cruciatus Curse on people who've earned detentions…'

'What?'

Harry, Ron, and Hermione's united voices echoed up and down the passage.

'Yeah,' said Neville. 'That's how I got this one,' he pointed at a particularly deep gash in his cheek, 'I refused to do it. Some people are into it, though; Crabbe and Goyle love it. First time they've ever been top in anything, I expect.'

'Alecto, Amycus's sister, teaches Muggle Studies, which is compulsory for everyone. We've all got to listen to her explain how Muggles are like animals, stupid and dirty, and how they drive wizards into hiding by being vicious toward them, and how the natural order is being reestablished. I got this one," he indicated another slash to his face, 'for asking her how much Muggle blood she and her brother have got.'

'Blimey, Neville,' said Ron, 'there's a time and a place for getting a smart mouth.'

'You didn't see her,' said Neville. 'You wouldn't have stood it either. The thing is, it helps when people stand up to them, it gives everyone hope. I used to notice that when you did it, Harry.'

'But they've used you as a knife sharpener,' said Ron, winding slightly as they passed a lamp and Neville's injuries were thrown into even greater relief.

Neville shrugged.

'Doesn't matter. They don't want to spill too much pure blood, so they'll torture us a bit if we're mouthy but they won't actually kill us.'

Kitty did not know what was worse, the things that Neville was saying or the matter-of-fact tone in which he said them.

'The only people in real danger are the ones whose friends and relatives on the outside are giving trouble. They get taken hostage. Old Xeno Lovegood was getting a bit too outspoken in The Quibbler, so they dragged Luna off the train on the way back for Christmas.'

'Neville, she's all right, we've seen her…' said Kitty, speaking for the first time since Neville had given them the news of Dennis's death.

'Yeah, I know, she managed to get a message to me.'

From his pocket he pulled a golden coin, and Harry recognized it as one of the fake Galleons that Dumbledore's Army had used to send one another messages.

'These have been great,' said Neville. 'The Carrows never rumbled how we were communicating, it drove them mad. We used to sneak out at night and put graffiti on the walls: Dumbledore's Army, Still Recruiting, stuff like that. Snape hated it.'

'You used to?' said Harry, who had noticed the past tense.

'Well, it got more difficult as time went on,' said Neville. 'We lost Luna and Dennis at Christmas, and Ginny never came back after Easter, and Vandyll was punished for setting off fake Dark Marks outside the Carrows' offices…the five of us were sort of the leaders. The Carrows seemed to know I was behind a lot of it, so they started coming down on me hard, and then Michael Corner went and got caught releasing a first-year they'd chained up, and they tortured him pretty badly. That scared people off.'

'No kidding,' muttered Ron, as the passage began to slope upward.

'Yeah, well, I couldn't ask people to go through what Michael did, so we dropped those kinds of stunts. But we were still fighting, doing underground stuff, right up until a couple of weeks ago. That's when they decided there was only one way to stop me, I suppose, and they went for Gran.'

'They what?' said Harry, Kitty, Ron, and Hermione together.

'Yeah,' said Neville, panting a little now, because the passage was climbing so steeply, 'well, you can see their thinking. It had worked really well, kidnapping kids to force their relatives to behave. I s'pose it was only a matter of time before they did it the other way around. Thing was,' he faced them, and Kitty was astonished to see that he was grinning, 'they bit off a bit more than they could chew with Gran. Little old witch living alone, they probably thought hey didn't need to send anyone particularly powerful. Anyway,' Neville laughed, 'Dawlish is still in St. Mungo's and Gran's on the run. She sent me a letter,' he clapped a hand to the breast pocket of his robes, 'telling me she was proud of me, that I'm my parent's son, and to keep it up.'

'Cool,' said Kitty.

'Yeah,' said Neville happily. 'Only thing was, once they realized they had no hold over me, they decided Hogwarts could do without me after all. I don't know whether they were planning to kill me or send me to Azkaban, either way, I knew it was time to disappear.'

'But,' said Ron, looking thoroughly confused, 'aren't… aren't we heading straight back for Hogwarts?'

''Course,' said Neville. 'You'll see. We're here.'

They turned a corner and there ahead of them was the end of the passage. Another short flight of steps led to a door just like the one hidden behind Ariana's portrait. Neville pushed it open and climbed through. As Kitty followed, she heard Neville call out for unseen people:

'Look who it is! Didn't I tell you?'

As Harry emerged into the room behind the passage, there were several screams and yells: 'HARRY!'

'It's Potter, it's POTTER!'

'Kitty!'

'Ron!'

'Hermione!'

Kitty had a confused impression of colored hangings, of lamps and many faces. The next moment, she, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were engulfed, hugged, pounded on the back, their hair ruffled, their hands shaken, by what seemed to be more than twenty people. They might have just won a Quidditch final. Harry was being hugged by Ginny.

'Okay, okay, calm down!' Neville called, and as the crowd backed away, Kitty was able to take in their surroundings. To her surprise, Luna, Fred, George, Cho, Lee Jordan and Dean were there too.

'How come…' she began.

'They came just minutes before you four arrived,' said Neville.

The room was enormous, and looked rather like the interior of a particularly sumptuous tree house, or perhaps a gigantic ship's cabin. Multicolored hammocks were strung from the ceiling and from the balcony that ran around the dark wood-paneled and windowless walls, which were covered in bright tapestry hangings. Kitty saw the gold Gryffindor lion, emblazoned on scarlet; the black badger of Hufflepuff, set against yellow; the bronze eagle of Ravenclaw, on blue and even the Slytherin snake on a green and silver banner.

'Where are we?'

'Room of Requirement, of course!' said Neville. 'Surpassed itself, hasn't it? The Carrows were chasing me, and I knew I had just one chance for a hideout: I managed to get through the door and this is what I found! Well, it wasn't exactly like this when I arrived, it was a load smaller, there was only one hammock and just Gryffindor hangings. But it's expanded as more and more of the D.A. have arrived.'

'And the Carrows can't get in?' asked Harry, looking around for the door.

'No," said Seamus Finnigan, whom Kitty had not recognized until he spoke: Seamus's face was bruised and puffy. 'It's a proper hideout, as long as one of us stays in here, they can't get at us, the door won't open. It's all down to Neville. He really gets this room. You've got to ask for exactly what you need like, 'I don't want any Carrow supporters to be able to get in' and it'll do it for you! You've just got to make sure you close the loopholes. Neville's the man!'

'It's quite straightforward, really,' said Neville modestly. 'I'd been in here about a day and a half, and getting really hungry, and wishing I could get something to eat, and that's when the passage to Hog's Head opened up. I went through it and met Aberforth. He's been providing us with food, because for some reason, that's the one thing the room doesn't really do.'

'Yeah, well, food's one of the five exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration,' said Ron to general astonishment.

'So we've been hiding out here for nearly two weeks,' said Vandyll, 'and it just makes more hammocks every time we need room, and it even sprouted a pretty good bathroom once girls started turning up…'

'…and thought they'd quite like to wash, yes,' supplied Lavender Brown, whom Kitty had not noticed until that point. Now that she looked around properly, she recognized many familiar faces. Both Patil twins were there, as were Terry Boot, Ernie Macmillan, Anthony Goldstein, and Michael Corner.

'Tell us what you've been up to, though,' said Ernie. 'There've been so many rumors, we've been trying to keep up with you on Potterwatch.' He pointed at the wireless. 'You didn't break into Gringotts?'

'They did!' said Neville. 'And the dragon's true too!'

There was a smattering of applause and a few whoops; Ron took a bow.

'What were you after?' asked Seamus eagerly.

Before any of them could parry the question with one of their own, Harry felt a terrible, scorching pain in the lightning scar. As he turned his back hastily on the curious and delighted faces, the Room of Requirement vanished, and he was standing inside a ruined stone shack, and the rotting floorboards were ripped apart at his feet, a disinterred golden box lay open and empty beside the hole, and Voldemort's scream of fury vibrated inside his head.

With an enormous effort he pulled out of Voldemort's mind again, back to where he stood, swaying, in the Room of Requirement, sweat pouring from his face and Kitty holding him up.

'Are you all right, Harry?' Neville was saying. 'Want to sit down? I expect you're tired, aren't…'

'No,' said Harry. He looked at Kitty, Ron and Hermione, trying to tell them without words that Voldemort had just discovered the loss of one of the other Horcruxes. Time was running out fast: If Voldemort chose to visit Hogwarts next, they would miss their chance.

'We need to get going,' Kitty said reading Harry's espression.

'What are we going to do, then, Harry?' asked Seamus. 'What's the plan?'

'Plan?' repeated Harry. He was exercising all his willpower to prevent himself succumbing again to Voldemort's rage: His scar was still burning. 'Well, there's something we…Kitty, Ron, Hermione, and I need to do, and then we'll get out of here.'

Nobody was laughing or whooping anymore. Neville looked confused.

'What d'you mean, 'get out of here'?'

'We haven't come back to stay,' said Kitty, 'There's something important we need to do…'

'What is it?'

'I…I can't tell you,' said Harry.

There was a ripple of muttering at this: Neville's brows contracted.

'Why can't you tell us? It's something to do with fighting You-Know-Who, right?'

'Well, yeah…'

'Then we'll help you.'

The other members of Dumbledore's Army were nodding, some enthusiastically, others solemnly. A couple of them rose from their chairs to demonstrate their willingness for immediate action.

'You don't understand,' Harry seemed to have said that a lot in the last few hours. 'We…we can't tell you. We've got to do it…alone.'

'Why?' asked Neville.

'Because ...' In his desperation to start looking for the missing Horcrux, or at least have a private discussion with Kitty, Ron and Hermione about where they might commence their search, Harry found it difficult to gather his thoughts.

' Because Dumbledore left the four of us a job,' said Kitty, 'and we weren't supposed to tell…I mean, he wanted us to do it, just the four of us.'

'We're his army,' said Neville. 'Dumbledore's Army. We were all in it together, we've been keeping it going while you three have been off on your own…'

'It hasn't exactly been a picnic, mate,' said Ron.

'I never said it had, but I don't see why you can't trust us. Everyone in this room's been fighting and they've been driven in here because the Carrows were hunting them down. Everyone in here's proven they're loyal to Dumbledore…loyal to you.'

'Look,' Harry began, without knowing what he was going to say, but it did not matter. 'I'm sorry, but that's not what we came back for. There's something we've got to do, and then…'

'You're going to leave us in this mess?' demanded Michael Corner.

'No!' said Ron. 'What we're doing will benefit everyone in the end, it's all about trying to get rid of You-Know-Who…'

'Then let us help!' said Neville angrily. 'We want to be a part of it!'

There was another noise behind them, and Kitty turned. Her heart seemed to fail: Draco was now climbing through the hole in the wall.

'How come you managed to get in?' shouted Draco angrily.

Fred and George pointed his wands at Draco.

'No!' cried Kitty, standing in front of Draco.

'Excuse me, but I think I have a right to meet my girlfriend, if she's come back to Hogwarts,' said Draco coolly, glowering at Neville.

'Your girlfriend's not…' Neville stopped speaking, and stared at Kitty, who was kissing Draco, as if her life depended on it.

'It's okay, Neville, he's on our side,' said Harry. 'He's a spy for us.'

'Says who?' said Seamus rudely.

'Dumbledore,' said Harry, 'I heard Dumbledore say so, with my own ears.'

'Look, Potter,' said Malfoy, 'You don't have to vouch for me. I don't give a flying fuck whether they believe me or not. I don't care about this crap. I haven't come to join the stupid DA or anything; I just came to meet Kitty.'

'What a kind, sweet, well mannered boy,' said Harry sarcastically.

'Shut up, Potter,' said Draco.

'Make me,' said Harry at once.

'Draco, stop it. Harry, just lay off,' said Kitty sternly.

'So are you guys like together, now?' said Neville.

'Yeah,' said Kitty defensively.

'Why?' said Seamus. 'He's a prat.'

'Because, I like her,' said Draco menacingly.

'Oh, I understand that,' said Neville, 'But I was wondering what's gone wrong in her head?' he said pointing at Kitty.

'Shut that hole on your face, Longbottom,' said Draco angrily.

'There isn't time for this crock of shit!' bellowed Harry. 'We have stuff to do!'

Draco raised his eyebrows and said, 'Kitty, I have to go. If someone sees me here, it'll be a big mess. I see you later, okay?'

Kitty nodded as he turned to leave.

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	38. Chapter 38

Snape's Flight

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

'So, what's the plan?' said George.

'Nothing…' said Harry.

Ron turned suddenly to Harry.

'Why can't they help?'

'What?'

'They can help.' He dropped his voice and said 'We don't know where it is. We've got to find it fast. We don't have to tell them it's a Horcrux.'

Harry looked from Kitty to Ron to Hermione, who murmured, 'I think Ron's right. We don't even know what we're looking for, we need them.' And when Harry looked unconvinced, 'You don't have to do everything alone, Harry.'

Harry thought fast, his scar still prickling, his head threatening to split again. Dumbledore had warned him against telling anyone but Ron and Hermione about the Horcruxes. Secrets and lies, that's how we grew up, and Albus ... he was a natural ... Was he turning into Dumbledore, keeping his secrets clutched to his chest, afraid to trust? But Dumbledore had trusted Snape, and where had that led? To murder at the top of the highest tower ...

'All right,' he said quietly to the other three. 'Okay,' he called to the room at large, and all noise ceased: Fred and George, who had been cracking jokes for the benefit of those nearest, fell silent, and all of the looked alert, excited.

'There's something we need to find,' Harry said. 'Something…something that'll help us overthrow You-Know-Who. Its called the lost diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw. Has anyone heard of it? Has anyone come across a crown with her eagle on it, for instance?'

He looked hopefully toward the little group of Ravenclaws, to Padma, Michael, Terry, and Cho, but it was Luna who answered, perched on the arm of Ginny's chair.

'I told you about it, remember, Harry? Daddy's trying to duplicate it.'

'Bloody hell,' muttered Ron.

'Yeah, but the lost diadem,' said Michael Corner, rolling his eyes, 'is lost, Luna. That's sort of the point.'

'Yes, Daddy's Wrackspurt siphons…'

But Harry cut across Luna.

'And none of you have ever seen anything that looks like it?'

They all shook their heads again. Harry looked at Kitty, Ron and Hermione and his own disappointment was mirrored back at him. An object that had been lost this long, and apparently without trace, did not seem like a good candidate for the Horcrux hidden in the castle ... Before he could formulate a new question, however, Cho spoke again.

'If you'd like to come and search in our common room, I can take you, Harry.'

Harry's scar scorched again: For a moment the Room of Requirement swam before him, and he saw instead the dark earth soaring beneath him and felt the great snake wrapped around his shoulders. Voldemort was flying again, whether to the underground lake or here, to the castle, he did not know: Either way, there was hardly any time left.

'He's on the move,' he said quietly to Kitty, Ron and Hermione. He glanced at Cho and then back at them. 'Alright.'

Cho had got to her feet, but Ginny said rather fiercely, 'No, Kitty will take Harry, won't you, Luna?'

'Okay,' said Kitty, as Cho sat down again, looking disappointed.

'How do we get out?' Harry asked Neville.

'Over here.'

He led Harry and Kitty to a corner, where a small cupboard opened onto a steep staircase. 'It comes out somewhere different every day, so they've never been able to find it,' he said. 'Only trouble is, we never know exactly where we're going to end up when we go out. Be careful, Harry, they're always patrolling the corridors at night.'

'No problem,' said Harry. 'See you in a bit.'

He and Kitty hurried up the staircase, which was long, lit by torches, and turned corners in unexpected places. At last they reached what appeared to be solid wall.

'Get under here,' Harry told Kitty, pulling out the Invisibility Cloak and throwing it over both of them. He gave the wall a little push.

It melted away at his touch and they slipped outside. Harry glanced back and saw that it had resealed itself at once. They were standing in a dark corridor. Harry pulled Kitty back into the shadows, fumbled in the pouch around his neck, and took out the Marauder's Map. Holding it close to his nose he searched, and located his and Kitty's dots at last.

'We're up on the fifth floor,' he whispered, watching filch moving away from them, a corridor ahead. 'Come on, this way.'

They crept off.

Harry had prowled the castle at night many times before, but never had his heart hammered that fast, never had so much depended on his safe passage through the place. Through squares of moonlight upon the floor, past suits of armor whose helmets creaked at the sound of their soft footsteps, around corners beyond which who knew what lurked. Harry and Kitty walked, checking the Marauder's Map whenever light permitted, twice pausing to allow a ghost to pass without drawing attention to themselves. Kitty expected to encounter an obstacle at any moment; her worst fear was Peeves, and she strained her ears with every step to hear the first, telltale signs of the poltergeist's approach.

'This way, Harry,' breathed Kitty, plucking his sleeve and pulling him toward a spiral staircase.

They climbed in tight, dizzying circles; Harry had never been up here before. At last they reached a door. There was no handle and no keyhole: nothing but a plain expanse of aged wood, and a bronze knocker in the shape an eagle.

Kitty reached out a pale hand, which looked eerie floating in midair, unconnected to arm or body. She knocked once, and in the silence it sounded to Harry like a cannon blast. At once the beak of the eagle opened, but instead of a bird's called, a soft, musical voice said, 'Which came first, the phoenix or the flame?'

'What? Isn't there a password?' said Harry, 'how the hell are we going to figure that one out?'

'Be quiet for a minute, will you,' said Kitty frowning in concentration. 'Well then, I think the answer is that a circle has no beginning.'

'Well reasoned,' said the voice, and the door swung open.

The deserted Ravenclaw common room was a wide, circular room, airier than any Harry had ever seen at Hogwarts. Graceful arched windows punctuated the walls, which were hung with blue-and-bronze silks. By day, the Ravenclaws would have a spectacular view of the surrounding mountains. The ceiling was domed and painted with stars, which were echoed in the midnight-blue carpet. There were tables, chairs, and bookcases, and in a niche opposite the door stood a tall statue of white marble.

Harry recognized Rowena Ravenclaw from the bust he had seen at Luna's house. The statue stood beside a door that led, he guessed, to dormitories above. He strode right up to the marble woman, and she seemed to look back at him with a quizzical half smile on her face, beautiful yet slightly intimidating. A delicate-looking circlet had been reproduced in marble on top of her head. It was not unlike the tiara Fleur had worn at her wedding. There were tiny words etched into it. Harry slipped out form under the cloak, and walked over to the plinth to examine the statue closely.

''Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.''

'Which makes you pretty skint, witless,' said a cackling voice.

Harry whirled around, slipped off the plinth, and landed on the floor. The sloping-shouldered figure of Alecto Carrow was standing before them, and he raised their wands, she pressed a stubby forefinger to the skull and snake branded on her forearm.

'Fuck,' said Kitty under her breath, still hidden under the cloak.

The moment her finger touched the Mark, Harry's scar burned savagely, the starry room vanished from sight.

'Stupefy!' said Kitty, and there was a loud bang and Alecto froze and fell forward onto the floor.

The ceiling had begun to tremble… scurrying, echoing footsteps were growing louder from behind the door leading to the dormitories. Kitty's spell had woken Ravenclaws sleeping above.

'Kat, where are you? I need to get under the Cloak!'

Kitty rushed to Harry and pulled him under the cloak. The door opened and a stream of Ravenclaws, all in their nightclothes, flooded into the common room. There were gasps and cries of surprise as they saw Alecto lying there unconscious. Slowly they shuffled in around her, a savage beast that might wake at any moment and attack them. Then one brave little first-year darted up to her and prodded her backside with his big toe.

'I think she might be dead!' he shouted with delight.

There was a rap on the common room door and every Ravenclaw froze. From the other side, Kitty heard the soft, musical voice that issued from the eagle door knocker: 'Where do Vanished objects go?'

'I dunno, do I? Shut it!' snarled an uncouth voice that Kitty knew was that of the Carrow brother , Amycus, 'Alecto? Alecto? Are you there? Have you got him? Open the door!'

The Ravenclaws were whispering amongst themselves, terrified. Then without warning, there came a series of loud bangs, as though somebody was firing a gun into the door.

'ALECTO! If he comes, and we haven't got Potter…d'you want to go the same way as the Malfoys? ANSWER ME!' Amycus bellowed, shaking the door for all he was worth, but still it did not open. The Ravenclaws were all backing away, and some of the most frightened began scampering back up the stair case to their beds. Then, just as Kitty was wondering whether she ought not to blast open the door and stun Amycus before the Death Eater could do anything else, a second, most familiar voice rang out beyond the door.

'May I ask what you are doing, Professor Carrow?'

'Trying…to get…through this damned…door!' shouted Amycus. 'Go and get Flitwick! Get him to open it, now!'

'But isn't your sister in there?' asked Professor McGonagall. 'Didn't Professor Flitwick let her in earlier this evening, at your urgent request? Perhaps she could open the door for you? Then you needn't wake up half the castle.'

'She ain't answering, you old besom! You open it! Darn! Do it, now!'

'Certainly, if you wish it,' said Professor McGonagall, with awful coldness, There was a genteel tap of the knocker and the musical voice asked again.

'Where do Vanished objects go?'

'Into non being, which is to say, everything,' replied Professor McGonagall.

'Nicely phrased,' replied the eagle door knocker, and the door swung open.

The few Ravenclaws who had remained behind sprinted for the stairs as Amycus burst over the threshold, brandishing his wand. Hunched like his sister, he had a pallid, doughy face and tiny eyes, which fell at once on Alecto, sprawled motionless on the floor. He let out a yell of fury and fear.

'What've they done, the little whelps?' he screamed. 'I'll Cruciate the lot of 'em till they tell me who did it…and what's the Dark Lord going to say?' he shrieked, standing over his sister and smacking himself on the forehead with his fist, 'We haven't got him, and they've gone and killed her!'

'She's only Stunned,' said Professor McGonagall impatiently, who had stooped down to examine Alecto. 'She'll be perfectly all right.'

'No she bludgering well won't!' bellowed Amycus. 'Not after the Dark Lord gets hold of her! She's gone and sent for him, I felt me Mark burn, and he thinks we've got Potter!'

'Got Potter?' said Professor McGonagall sharply, 'What do you mean, 'got Potter'?'

'He told us Potter might try and get inside Ravenclaw Tower, and to send for him if we caught him!'

'Why would Harry Potter try to get inside Ravenclaw Tower! Potter belongs in my House!'

Beneath the disbelief and anger, Harry heard a little strain of pride in her voice and affection for Minerva McGonagall gushed up inside him.

'We was told he might come in here!' said Carrow. 'I dunno why, do I? Maybe, because his sister is in Ravenclaw!'

Professor McGonagall stood up and her beady eyes swept the room. Twice they passed right over the place where Harry and Kitty stood.

'We can push it off on the kids,' said Amycus, his pig like face suddenly crafty. 'Yeah, that's what we'll do. We'll say Alecto was ambushed by the kids, them kids up there,' he looked up at the starry ceiling toward the dormitories…' and we'll say they forced her to pres her Mark, and that's why he got a false alarm... He can punish them. Couple of kids more or less, what's the difference?'

'Only the difference between truth and lie, courage and cowardice,' said Professor McGonagall, who had turned pale, 'a difference, in short, which you and your sister seem unable to appreciate. But let me make one thing very clear. You are not going to pass off your many ineptitudes on the students of Hogwarts. I shall not permit it.'

'Excuse me?'

Amycus moved forward until he was offensively close to Professor McGonagall, his face within inches of hers. She refused to back away, but looked down at him as if he were something disgusting she had found stuck to the lavatory seat.

'It's not a case of what you'll permit, Minerva McGonagall. Your time's over. It's us what's in charge here now, and you'll back me up or you'll pay the price.'

And he spat in her face.

Harry pulled the Cloak off himself, raised his wand, and said, 'You shouldn't have done that.'

As Amycus spun around, Harry shouted, 'Crucio!'

The Death Eater was lifted off his feet. He writhed through the air like a drowning man, thrashing and howling in pain, and then, with a crunch and a shattering of glass, he smashed into the front of a bookcase and crumpled, insensible, to the floor. 'I see what Bellatrix meant,' said Harry, the blood thundering through his brain, 'you need to really mean it.'

'Potter!' whispered Professor McGonagall, clutching her heart. 'Potter, you both are here! What? How?' She struggled to pull herself together. 'Potter, that was foolish!'

'He spat at you,' said Harry.

'Potter, I…that was very gallant of you, but don't you realize?'

'Yeah, I do,' Harry assured her. Somehow her panic steadied him. 'Professor McGonagall, Voldemort's on the way.'

'You must flee…both of you,' whispered Professor McGonagall, 'Now Potter, as quickly as you can!'

'I can't,' said Harry, 'There's something I need to do. Professor, so you know where the diadem of Ravenclaw is?'

'The d-diadem of Ravenclaw? Of course not, hasn't it been lost for centuries?' She sat up a little straighter 'Potter, it was madness, utter madness, for you to enter this castle…'

'I had to,' said Harry. 'Professor, we need to find that diadem…'

There was a sound of movement, of clinking glass. Amycus was coming round. Before Harry or Kitty could act, Professor McGonagall rose to her feet, pointed her wand at the groggy Death Eater, and said, 'Imperio.'

Amycus got up, walked over to his sister, picked up her wand, then shuffled obediently to Professor McGonagall and handed it over along with his own. Then he lay down on the floor beside Alecto. Professor McGonagall waved her wand again, and a length of shimmering silver rope appeared out of thin air and snaked around the Carrows, binding them tightly together.

'Potter,' said Professor McGonagall, turning to face him again with superb indifference to the Carrows' predicament. 'if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named does indeed know that you are here…'

Harry winced in pain, as his scar burned…

'Potter, are you all right?' said a voice, and Harry came back. He was clutching Kitty's shoulder to steady himself.

'Time's running out, Voldemort's getting nearer, Professor, I'm acting on Dumbledore's orders, I must find what he wanted me to find! But we've got to get the students out while I'm searching the castle. It's me Voldemort wants, but he won't care about killing a few more or less, not now…' not now he knows I'm here, Harry finished the sentence in his head.

'You're acting on Dumbledore's orders?' she repeated with a look of dawning wonder. Then she drew herself up to her fullest height.

'We shall secure the school against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named while you search for this…this diadem.'

'Is that possible?'

'I think so,' said Professor McGonagall dryly, 'we teachers are rather good at magic, you know. I am sure we will be able to hold him off for a while if we all put our best efforts into it. Of course, something will have to be done about Professor Snape…'

'Let me…'

'…and if Hogwarts is about to enter a state of siege, with the Dark Lord at the gates, it would indeed be advisable to take as many innocent people out of the way as possible. With the Floo Network under observation, and Apparition impossible within the grounds…'

'There's a way,' said Kitty quickly, and she explained about the passageway leading into the Hog's Head.

'Potter, we're talking about hundreds of students…'

'I know, Professor, but if Voldemort and the Death Eaters are concentrating on the school boundaries they won't be interested in anyone who's Disapparating out of Hog's Head.'

'There's something in that,' she agreed. She pointed her wand at the Carrows, and a silver net fell upon their bound bodies, tied itself around them, and hoisted them into the air, where they dangled beneath the blue-and-gold ceiling like two large, ugly sea creatures. 'Come. We must alert the other Heads of House. You'd better put that Cloak back on.'

She marched toward the door, and as she did so she raised her wand. From the tip burst three silver cats with spectacle markings around their eyes. The Patronuses ran sleekly ahead, filling the spiral staircase with silvery light, as Professor McGonagall, Harry, and Kitty hurried back down.

Along the corridors they raced, and one by one the Patronuses left them. Professor McGonagall's tartan dressing gown rustled over the floor, and Harry and Kitty jogged behind her under the Cloak.

They had descended two more floors when another set of quiet joined theirs. Harry, whose scar was still prickling, heard them first. He felt in the pouch around his neck for the Marauder's Map, but before he could take it our, McGonagall too seemed to become aware of their company. She halted, raised her wand ready to duel, and said, 'Who's there?'

'It is I,' said a low voice.

From behind a suit of armor stepped Severus Snape.

Hatred boiled up in Kitty at the sight of him. She had forgotten the details of Snape's appearance in the magnitude of his crimes, forgotten how his greasy black hair hung in curtains around his thin face, how his black eyes had a dead, cold look. He was not wearing nightclothes, but was dressed in his usual black cloak, and he too was holding his wand ready for a fight.

'Where are the Carrows?' he asked quietly.

'Wherever you told them to be, I expect, Severus,' said Professor McGonagall.

Snape stepped nearer, and his eyes flitted over Professor McGonagall into the air around her, as if he knew that Harry and Kitty were there. Harry and Kitty held their wands up too, ready to attack.

'I was under the impression,' said Snape, 'That Alecto had apprehended an intruder.'

'Really?' said Professor McGonagall. 'And what gave you that impression?'

Snape made a slight flexing movement of his left arm, where the Dark Mark was branded into his skin.

'Oh, but naturally,' said Professor McGonagall. 'You Death Eaters have your own private means of communication, I forgot.'

Snape pretended not to have heard her. His eyes were still probing the air all about her, and he was moving gradually closer, with an air of hardly noticing what he was doing.

'I did not know that it was your night to patrol the corridors Minerva.'

'You have some objection?'

'I wonder what could have brought you out of our bed at this late hour?'

'I thought I heard a disturbance,' said Professor McGonagall.

'Really? But all seems calm.'

Snape looked into her eyes.

'Have you seen Harry Potter, Minerva? Because if you have. I must insist…'

Professor McGonagall moved faster than Kitty could have believed. Her wand slashed through the air and for a split second Kitty thought that Snape must crumple, unconscious, but the swiftness of his Shield Charm was such that McGonagall was thrown off balance. She brandished her wand at a touch on the wall and it flew out of its bracket. Harry, about to curse Snape, was forced to pull Kitty out of the way of the descending flames, which became a ring of fire that filled the corridor and flew like a lasso at Snape… Then it was no longer fire, but a great black serpent that McGonagall blasted to smoke, which re-formed and solidified in seconds to become a swarm of pursuing daggers. Snape avoided them only by forcing the suit of armor in front of him, and with echoing clangs the daggers sank, one after another, into its breast…

'Minerva!' said a squeaky voice, and looking behind him, still shielding Kitty from flying spells, Harry saw Professors Flitwick and Sprout sprinting up the corridor toward them in their nightclothes, with the enormous Professor Slughorn panting along at the rear.

'No!' squealed Flitwick, raising his wand. 'You'll do no more murder at Hogwarts!'

Flitwick's spell hit the suit of armor behind which Snape had taken shelter. With a clatter it came to life. Snape struggled free of the crushing arms and sent it flying back toward his attackers. Harry and Kitty had to dive sideways to avoid it as it smashed into the wall and shattered. When Kitty looked up again, Snape was in full flight, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout all thundering after him. He hurtled through a classroom door and, moments later, they heard McGonagall cry, 'Coward! COWARD!'

'What's happened, what's happened?' asked Kitty.

Harry dragged her to her feet and they raced along the corridor, trailing the Invisibility Cloak behind them, into the deserted classroom where Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout were standing at a smashed window.

'He jumped,' said Professor McGonagall as Harry and Kitty ran into the room.

'You mean he's dead?' Kitty sprinted to the window, ignoring Flitwick's and Sprout's yells of shock at her sudden appearance.

'No, he's not dead,' said McGonagall bitterly. 'Unlike Dumbledore, he was still carrying a wand... and he seems to have learned a few tricks from his master.'

With a tingle of horror, Kitty saw in the distance a huge, bat like shape flying through the darkness toward the perimeter wall. Harry stuffed the cloak into his pocket.

There were heavy footfalls behind them, and a great deal of puffing. Slughorn had just caught up.

'Harry!' he panted, massaging his immense chest beneath his emerald-green silk pajamas. 'My dear boy... what a surprise...Minerva, do please explain...Severus...what...?'

'Our headmaster is taking a short break,' said Professor McGonagall, pointing at the Snape-shaped hole in the window.

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	39. Chapter 39

A Weasley Reunion

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

'Professor!' Harry shouted his hand on his forehead, 'Professor, we've got to barricade the school, he's coming now!'

'Very well. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is coming,' she told the other teachers. Sprout and Flitwick gasped. Slughorn let out a low groan. 'Potter has work to do in the castle on Dumbledore's orders. We need to put in place every protection of which we are capable while Potter does what he needs to do.'

'You realize , of course, that nothing we do will be able to keep out You-Know-Who indefinitely?' squeaked Flitwick.

'But we can hold him up,' said Professor Sprout.

'Thank you, Pomona,' said Professor McGonagall, and between the two witches there passed a look of grim understanding.

'I suggest we establish basic protection around the place, then gather our students and meet in the Great Hall. Most must be evacuated, though if any of those who are over age wish to stay and fight, I think they ought to be given the chance.'

'Agreed,' said Professor Sprout, already hurrying toward the door. 'I shall meet you in the Great Hall in twenty minutes with my House.'

And as she jogged out of sight, they could hear her muttering, 'Tentacula, Devil's Snare. And Snargaluff pods...yes, I'd like to see the Death Eaters fighting those.'

'I can act from here,' said Flitwick, and although he could barely see out of it, he pointed his wand through the smashed window and started muttering incantations of great complexity. Kitty heard a weird rushing noise, as though Flitwick had unleashed the power of the wind into the grounds.

'Professor,' Harry said, approaching the little Charms master. 'Professor, I'm sorry to interrupt, but this is important. Have you got any idea where the diadem of Ravenclaw is?'

'…Protego Horribillis…the diadem of Ravenclaw?' squeaked Flitwick. 'A little extra wisdom never goes amiss, Potter, but I hardly think it would be much use in this situation!'

'I only meant…do you know where it is? Have you ever seen it?'

'Seen it! Nobody has seen it in living memory! Long since lost, boy.'

Harry felt a mixture of desperate disappointment and panic. What, then, was the Horcrux?

'We shall meet you and your Ravenclaws in the Great Hall, Filius!' said Professor McGonagall, beckoning to Harry and Kitty to follow her.

They had just reached the door when Slughorn rumbled into speech.

'My word,' he puffed, pale and sweaty, his walrus mustache aquiver. 'What a to-do! I'm not at all sure whether this is wise, Minerva. He is bound to find a way in, you know, and anyone who has tried to delay him will be in the most grievous peril…'

'I shall expect you and the Slytherins in the Great Hall in twenty minutes also,' said Professor McGonagall. 'If you wish to leave with your students, we shall not stop you. But if any of you attempt to sabotage our resistance or take up arms against us within this castle, then, Horace, we duel to kill.'

'Minerva!'he said, aghast.

'Go and wake your students, Horace. The time has come for Slytherin House to decide upon its loyalties,' interrupted Professor McGonagall.

'Some of them are on our side!' said Kitty loudly, thinking of Draco and Vandyll.

Harry did not stay to watch Slughorn splutter. He and Kitty stayed after Professor McGonagall, who had taken up a position in the middle of the corridor and raised her wand.

'Piertotum…oh, for heaven's sake, Filch, not now…'

The aged caretaker had just come hobbling into view, shouting 'Students out of bed! Students in the corridors!'

'They're supposed to be you blithering idiot!' shouted McGonagall. ''Now go and do something constructive! Find Peeves!'

'P-Peeves?' stammered Filch as though he had never heard the name before.

'Yes, Peeves, you fool, Peeves! Haven't you been complaining about him for a quarter of a century? Go and fetch him, at once.'

Filch evidently thought Professor McGonagall had taken leave of her senses, but hobbled away, hunch-shouldered, muttering under his breath.

'And now…Piertotum Locomotor!' cried Professor McGonagall. And all along the corridor the statues and suits of armor jumped down from their plinths, and from the echoing crashes from the floors above and below, Kitty knew that their fellows throughout the castle had done the same.

'Hogwarts is threatened!' shouted Professor McGonagall. 'Man the boundaries, protect us, do your duty to our school!'

Clattering and yelling, the horde of moving statues stampeded past Harry, some of them smaller, others larger than life. There were animals too, and the clanking suits of armor brandished swords and spiked balls on chains.

'Now, Potter,' said McGonagall. 'You both had better return to your friends and bring them to the Great Hall…I shall rouse the other Gryffindors.'

They parted at the top of the next staircase, Harry and Kitty turning back toward the concealed entrance to the Room of Requirement. As they ran, they met crowds of students, most wearing traveling cloaks over their pajamas, being shepherded down to the Great Hall by teachers and prefects.

'That was Potter!'

'Harry Potter!'

'It was him, I swear, I just saw him!'

But Harry did not look back, and at last they reached the entrance to the Room of Requirement, Harry leaned against the enchanted wall, which opened to admit them, and he and Kitty sped back down the steep staircase.

'Wh…'

As the room came into view, Harry slipped down a few stairs in shock. It was packed, far more crowded than when he had last been in there. Kingsley and Remus were looking up at him, as were Oliver Wood, Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet, Bill and Fleur, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

'Harry, what's happening?' said Remus, meeting him at the foot of the stairs.

'Voldemort's on his way, they're barricading he school…Snape's run for it… What are you doing here? How did you know?'

'We sent messages to the rest of Dumbledore's Army,' Fred explained. 'You couldn't expect everyone to miss the fun, Harry, and the D.A. let the Order of the Phoenix know, and it all kind of snowballed.'

'What first, Harry?' called George. 'What's going on?'

'They're evacuating the younger kids and everyone's meeting in the Great Hall to get organized,' Harry said. 'We're fighting.'

There was a great roar and a surge toward the stairs, he was pressed back against he wall as they ran past him, the mingled members of the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore's Army, and Harry's old Quidditch team, all with their wands drawn, heading up into the main castle.

The crowd was thinning. Only a little knot of people remained below in the Room of Requirement, and Harry joined them. Mrs. Weasley was struggling with Ginny. Around them stood Remus, Fred, George, Bill and Fleur.

'You're underage!' Mrs. Weasley shouted at her daughter as Harry approached 'I won't permit it! The boys, yes, but you, you've got to go home!'

'I won't!'

Ginny's hair flew as she pulled her arm out of her mother's grip.

'I'm in Dumbledore's Army…'

'A teenagers' gang!'

'A teenagers' gang that's about to take him on, which no one else has dared to do!' said Fred.

'She's sixteen!' shouted Mrs. Weasley. 'She's not old enough! What you two were thinking bringing her with you…'

Fred and George looked slightly ashamed of themselves.

'Mom's right, Ginny,' said Bill gently. 'You can't do this. Everyone underage will have to leave, it's only right.'

'I can't go home!' Ginny shouted, angry tears sparkling in her eyes. 'my whole family's here, I can't stand waiting there alone and not knowing and…and Kitty's here too, she's younger than me!'

Mrs. Weasley turned to Kitty who immediately said, 'No! Save your breath, Mrs. Weasley.'

'Kitty's not leaving at any cost,' said Remus, and Kitty felt a rush of gratitude towards him.

'Okay, but Ginny…'started Mrs. Weasley.

Ginny's eyes met Harry's for the first time. She looked at him beseechingly, but he shook his head and she turned away bitterly.

'Fine,' she said, staring at the entrance to the tunnel back to the Hog's Head. 'I'll say good-by now, then, and…'

There was a scuffling and a great thump. Someone else had clambered out of the tunnel, overbalanced slightly, and fallen. He pulled himself up no the nearest chair, looked around through lopsided horn-rimmed glasses, and said, 'Am I too late? Has it started. I only just found out, so I…I…'

Percy spluttered into silence. Evidently he had not expected to run into most of his family. There was a long moment of astonishment, broken by Fleur turning to Remus and saying, in a wildly transparent attempt to break the tension. 'So¨C 'ow eez leetle Teddy?'

Remus blinked at her, startled. The silence between the Weasleys seemed to be solidifying, like ice.

'I…oh yes, he's fine!' Remus said loudly. 'Yes, Tonks is with him at her mother's …'

Percy and the other Weasleys were still staring at one another, frozen.

'Here, I've got a picture?' Remus shouted, pulling a photograph from inside his jacket and showing it to Fleur and Kitty and Harry, who saw a tiny baby with a tuft of bright turquoise hair, waving fat fists at the camera.

'I was a fool!' Percy roared, so loudly that Remus nearly dropped his photograph. 'I was an idiot, I was a pompous prat, I was a…a…'

'Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron,' said Fred.

Percy swallowed.

'Yes, I was!'

'Well, you can't say fairer than that,' said Fred, holding his hand out to Percy.

Mrs. Weasley burst into tears. She ran forward, pushed Fred aside, and pulled Percy into a strangling hug, while he patted her on the back, his eyes on his father.

'I'm sorry, Dad,' Percy said.

Mr. Weasley blinked rather rapidly, and then he too hurried to hug his son.

'What made you see sense, Perce?' inquired George.

'It's been coming on for a while,' said Percy, mopping his eyes under his glasses with a corner of his traveling cloak. 'But I had to find a way out and it's not so easy at the Ministry, they're imprisoning traitors all the time. I managed to make contact with Aberforth and he tipped me off ten minutes ago that Hogwarts was going to make a fight of it, so here I am.'

'Well, we do look to our prefects to take a lead at times such as these,' said George in a good imitation of Percy's most pompous manner. 'Now let's get upstairs and fight, or all the good Death Eaters'll be taken.'

'So, you're my sister in-law now?' said Percy, shaking hands with Fleur as they hurried off toward the staircase with Bill, Fred, and George.

'Ginny!' barked Mrs. Weasley.

Ginny had been attempting, under cover of the reconciliations to sneak upstairs too.

'Molly, how about this,' said Remus. 'Why doesn't Ginny stay here , then at least she'll be on the scene and know what's going on, but she won't be in the middle of the fighting?'

'I…'

'That's a good idea,' said Mr. Weasley firmly, 'Ginny, you stay in this room, you hear me?'

Ginny did not seem to like the idea much, but under her father's unusually stern gaze, she nodded. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Remus headed off to the stairs as well.

'Where's Ron?' asked Harry, 'Where's Hermione?'

'They must have gone up the Great Hall already,' Mr. Weasley called over his shoulder.

'I didn't see them pass me,' said Harry.

'They said something about a bathroom,' said Ginny, 'not long after you left.'

'A bathroom?' said Kitty incredulously, 'Now? Can't they hold it?'

Harry strode across the room to an open door leading off the Room of Requirement and checked the bathroom beyond. It was empty.

'You're sure they said bath…'

But then his scar seared and the Room of Requirement vanished. He was looking through the high wrought-iron gates with winged boats on pillars at either side, looking through the dark grounds toward the castle, which was ablaze with lights. Nagini lay draped over his shoulders. He was possessed of that cold, cruel sense of purpose that preceded murder.

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	40. Chapter 40

The Battle of Hogwarts

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall was dark and scattered with stars, and below it the four long House tables were lined with disheveled students, some in traveling cloaks, others in dressing gowns. Here and there shone the pearly white figures of the school ghosts. Every eye, living and dead was fixed upon Professor McGonagall, who was speaking from the raised platform at the top of the Hall. Behind her stood the remaining teaches, including the palomino centaur, Firenze, and the members of the Order of the Phoenix who had arrived to fight.

'...evacuation will be overseen by Mr. Filch and Madame Pomfrey. Prefects, when I give the word, you will organize your House and take your charges in orderly fashion to the evacuation point.'

Ernie Macmillan stood up at the Hufflepuff table and shouted; "And what if we want to stay and fight?"

There was a smattering of applause.

'If you are of age, you may stay,' said Professor McGonagall.

'I don't care, I'm staying!' said Vandyll loudly who was sitting with Luna at the Ravenclaw table, 'If anyone tries to stop me…I'll…I'll duel them...'

'So will I!' shouted Luna.

'Very well, you may stay if you want to fight!' said Mcgonagall, recognizing defeat.

'What about our things?" called a girl at the Ravenclaw table. 'Our trunks, our owls?'

'We have no time to collect possessions,' said Professor McGonagall. 'The important thing is to get you out of here safely.'

'Where's Professor Snape?' shouted a girl from the Slytherin table.

'He has, to use the common phrase, done a bunk,' replied Professor McGonagall and a great cheer erupted from the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws.

Harry and Kitty moved up the Hall alongside the Gryffindor table, still looking for Ron and Hermione. As they passed, faces turned in their direction, and a great deal of whispering broke out in their wake.

'We have already placed protection around the castle,' Professor McGonagall was saying, 'but it is unlikely to hold for very long unless we reinforce it. I must ask you, therefore, to move quickly and calmly, and do as your prefects…'

But her final words were drowned as a different voice echoed throughout the Hall. It was high, cold, and clear. There was no telling from where it came. It seemed to issue from the walls themselves. Like the monster it had once commanded, it might have lain dormant there for centuries.

'I know that you are preparing to fight.' Kitty clutched Harry and screamed. "Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood.'

There was silence in the Hall now, the kind of silence that presses against the eardrums, that seems too huge to be contained by walls.

'Give me Harry Potter,' said Voldemort's voice, 'and they shall not be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded.'

'You have until midnight.'

The silence swallowed them all again. Every head turned, every eye in the place seemed to have found Harry, to hold him forever in the glare of thousands of invisible beams. Then a figure rose from the Slytherin table and Kitty recognized Pansy Parkinson as she raised a shaking arm and screamed, 'But he's there! Potter's there. Someone grab him!'

Before Harry could speak, there was a massive movement. The Gryffindors in front of him had risen and stood facing, not Harry, but the Slytherins. Then the Hufflepuffs stood, and almost at the same moment, the Ravenclaws, all of them with their backs to Harry, all of them looking toward Pansy instead, and Harry, awestruck and overwhelmed, saw wands emerging everywhere, pulled from beneath cloaks and from under sleeves.

'Thank you, Miss Parkinson,' said Professor McGonagall in a clipped voice. 'You will leave the Hall first with Mr. Filch. If the rest of your House could follow.'

Harry heard the grinding of the benches and then the sound of the Slytherins trooping out on the other side of the Hall. Draco Malfoy deserted the Slytherin crowd and joined the others who were staying to fight.

'Ravenclaws, follow on!' cried Professor McGonagall.

Slowly the four tables emptied. The Slytherin table was completely deserted, but a number of older Ravenclaws remained seated while their fellows filed out; even more Hufflepuffs stayed behind, and half of Gryffindor remained in their seats, necessitating Professor McGonagall's descent from the teachers' platform to chivvy the underage on their way.

'Absolutely not, Coote, go! And you, Peakes!'

Harry and Kitty hurried over to the Weasleys, all sitting together at the Gryffindor table.

'Where are Ron and Hermione?'

But he broke off as Kingsley had stepped forward on the raised platform to address those who had remained behind.

'We've only got half an half an hour until midnight, so we need to act fast. A battle plan has been agreed between the teachers of Hogwarts and the Order of the Phoenix. Professors Flitwick, Sprout and McGonagall are going to take groups of fighters up to the three highest towers …Ravenclaw, Astronomy, and Gryffindor…where they'll have good overview, excellent positions from which to work spells. Meanwhile Remus' he indicated Remus 'Arthur' he pointed toward Mr. Weasley, sitting at the Gryffindor table 'and I will take groups into the grounds. We'll need somebody to organize defense of the entrances or the passageways into the school…'

'Sounds like a job for us,' called Fred, indicating himself and George, and Kingsley nodded his approval.

'All right, leaders up here and we'll divide up the troops!'

'Potter,' said Professor McGonagall, hurrying up to him, as students flooded the platform, jostling for position, receiving instructions, 'Aren't you supposed to be looking for something?'

'What? Oh,' said Harry, 'oh yeah!'

He had almost forgotten about the Horcrux, almost forgotten that the battle was being fought so that he could search for it: The inexplicable absence of Ron and Hermione had momentarily driven every other thought from his mind.

'Then go, Potter, go!'

'Right …yeah… Kat, you're staying with me. Come on!'

They ran out of the Great Hall again, into the entrance hall still crowded with evacuating students. They swept up the marble staircase, and hurried off along a deserted corridor. Fear and panic were clouding Kitty's thought processes. She tried to calm herself, to concentrate on finding the Horcrux, but her thoughts buzzed as frantically and fruitlessly as wasps trapped beneath a glass. Without Ron and Hermione to help them, they could not seem to marshal their ideas. They slowed down, coming to a halt halfway along a passage, where they sat down on the plinth of a departed statue and Harry pulled the Marauder's Map out of the pouch around his neck. Ron and Hermione's names were nowhere to be seen on it, though the density of the crowd of dots now making its way to the Room of Requirement might, she thought, be concealing them. Harry put the map away, pressed his hands over his face, and closed his eyes, trying to concentrate.

'Harry, Voldemort thought you'd go to Ravenclaw Tower,' said Kitty, 'Maybe the Horcrux is there.'

'but how the hell did Voldemort find the diadem, when its lost?' asked Harry.

'I dunno,' said Kitty, 'I wonder who could have told him where to look, when nobody had seen the diadem in living memory.'

'In living memory... Of course, the Gray Lady!' repeated Kitty jumping to her feet. 'Of course, Harry! Why didn't I see it before. Look, Helena Ravenclaw stole the diadem, didn't she? So, she must have known where she hid it, and then she told Riddle. Let's go ask her!'

'Ask her?' said Harry.

'Yeah, she's the Ravenclaw ghost! The Gray Lady, that's her!' said Kitty pulling him up, 'Come on!'

He leapt up from the plinth and tore back the way he had come, now in pursuit of his one last hope. The sound of hundreds of people marching toward the Room of Requirement grew louder and louder as he returned to the marble stairs. Prefects were shouting instructions, trying to keep track of the students in their own houses, there was much pushing and shouting; Kitty saw Zacharias Smith bowling over first years to get to the front of the queue, here and there younger students were in tears, while older ones called desperately for friends or siblings.

'Where would she be?' asked Harry.

'Here! Just here!' panted Kitty. Harry ran after her. Once through the door of the corridor into which Kitty had ran, Harry saw her at the very end of the passage, a pearly white woman gliding smoothly away from them.

'Hey… wait! come back!' yelled Kitty.

She consented to pause, floating a few inches from the ground. Harry supposed that she was beautiful, with her waist-length hair and floor-length cloak, but she also looked haughty and proud. Close in, he recognized her as a ghost he had passed several times in the corridor, but to whom he had never spoken.

'You're the Gray Lady?' said Harry.

She nodded but did not speak.

'The ghost of Ravenclaw Tower?'

'That is correct.'

Her tone was not encouraging.

'Please, I need some help. I need to know anything you can tell me about the lost diadem.'

A cold smile curved her lips.

'I am afraid,' she said, turning to leave, 'that I cannot help you.'

'WAIT!'

He had not meant to shout, but anger and panic were threatening to overwhelm him. He glanced at his watch as she hovered in front of him. It was a quarter to midnight.

'This is urgent,' he said fiercely. 'If that diadem's at Hogwarts, I've got to find it, fast.'

'You are hardly the first student to covet the diadem,' she said disdainfully. 'Generations of students have badgered me…'

'This isn't about trying to get better marks!' Kitty shouted at her, 'It's about Voldemort…defeating Voldemort…or aren't you interested in that?'

She could not blush, but her transparent cheeks became more opaque, and her voice was heated as she replied, 'Of course I…how dare you suggest…?'

'Well, help us then!'

Her composure was slipping.

'It …it is not a question of…' she stammered. 'While the diadem bestows wisdom, I doubt that it would greatly increase you chances of defeating the wizard who calls himself Lord…'

'I'm not interested in wearing it!' Harry said fiercely. 'There's no time to explain…but if you care about Hogwarts, if you want to see Voldemort finished, you've got to tell me anything you know about the diadem!'

She remained quite still, floating in midair, staring down at him, and a sense of hopelessness engulfed Harry. Of course, if she had known anything, she would have told Flitwick or Dumbledore, who had surely asked her the same question. He had shaken his head and made to turn away when she spoke in a low voice.

'I stole the diadem from my mother.'

'Yes, we know that!' said Kitty, 'Where'd you hide it?'

'I stole the diadem,' repeated Helena Ravenclaw in a whisper. 'I sought to make myself cleverer, more important than my mother. I ran away with it. My mother, they say, never admitted that the diadem was gone, but pretended that she had it still. She concealed her loss, my dreadful betrayal, even from the other founders of Hogwarts. Then my mother fell ill…fatally ill. In spite of my perfidy, she was desperate to see me one more time. She sent a man who had long loved me, though I spurned his advances, to find me. She knew that he would not rest until he had done so.'

Harry waited. She drew a deep breath and threw back her head.

'He tracked me to the forest where I was hiding. When I refused to return with him, he became violent. The baron was always a hot-tempered man. Furious at my refusal, jealous of my freedom, he stabbed he saw what he had done, he was overcome with remorse. He took the weapon that had claimed my life, and used it to kill himself. All these centuries later, he wears his chains as an act of penitence... as he should,' she added bitterly.

'And… and the diadem?'

'It remained where I had hidden it when I heard the Baron blundering through the forest toward me. Concealed inside a hollow tree.'

'A hollow tree?' repeated Harry. 'What tree? Where was this?'

'A forest in Albania. A lonely place I thought was far beyond my mother's reach.'

'You've already told someone this story, haven't you? Another student?' said Kitty.

She closed her eyes and nodded.

'I had... no idea... He was flattering. He seemed to... understand... to sympathize...'

Yes, Harry thought. Tom Riddle would certainly have understood Helena Ravenclaw's desire to possess fabulous objects to which she had little right.

'Well, you weren't the first person Riddle wormed things out of,' Harry muttered. 'He could be charming when he wanted...'

So, Voldemort had managed to wheedle the location of the lost diadem out of the Gray Lady. He had traveled to that far-flung forest and retrieved the diadem from its hiding place, perhaps as soon as he left Hogwarts, before he even started work at Borgin and Burkes. And wouldn't those secluded Albanian woods have seemed an excellent refuge when, so much later, Voldemort and needed a place to lie low, undisturbed, for ten long years?But the diadem, once it became his precious Horcrux, had not been left in that lowly tree... No, the diadem had been returned secretly to its true home, and Voldemort must have put it there…

'… the night he asked for a job!' said Harry, finishing his thought.

'I beg your pardon?' said Kitty.

'He hid the diadem in the castle, the night he asked Dumbledore to let him teach!' said Harry. Saying it out loud enabled him to make sense of it all. 'He must've hidden the diadem on his way up to, or down from, Dumbledore's office! But it was well worth trying to get the job…then he might've got the chance to nick Gryffindor's sword as well…thank you, thanks!'

'Yes, Harry,' said Kitty, 'But we still don't know where it is!'

Lost in desperate speculation, Harry turned a corner, but he had taken only a few steps down the new corridor when the window to his left broke open with a deafening, shattering crash. As he leapt aside, a gigantic body flew in through the window and hit the opposite wall.

Something large and furry detached itself, whimpering, from the new arrival and flung itself at Harry.

'Hagrid!' Harry bellowed, fighting off Fang the boarhound's attentions as the enormous bearded figure clambered to his feet 'What the…'

'Harry, yer here! Yer here! Kitty! Yer too!'

Hagrid stooped down, bestowed upon Harry and Kitty a cursory and rib-cracking hug, then ran back to the shattered window.

''Good boy, Grawpy!' he bellowed through the hole in the window. 'I'll se yer in a moment, there's a good lad!'

Beyond Hagrid, out in the dark night, Harry saw bursts of light in the distance and heard a weird, keening scream. He looked down at his watch: It was midnight. The battle had begun.

'Blimey, Harry,' panted Hagrid, 'this is it, eh? Time ter fight?'

'Hagrid, where have you come from?'

'Heard You-Know-Who from up in our cave,' said Hagrid grimly. 'Voice carried, didn't it? 'Yet got till midnight ter gimme Potter.' Knew yeh mus' be here, knew that mus' be happenin'. Get down, Fang. So we come ter join in, me an' Grawpy an' Fang. Smashed our way through the boundary by the forest, Grawpy was carryin' us, Fang an' me. Told him ter let me down at the castle, so he shoved me through the window, bless him. Not exactly what I meant, bu' where's Ron an' Hermione?'

'That,' said Harry, 'is a really good question. Come on.'

They hurried together along the corridor, Fang lolloping beside them. Kitty could hear movement through the corridors all around: running footsteps, shouts; through the windows, he could see more flashes of light in the dark grounds.

'Where're we goin'?' puffed Hagrid, pounding along at Harry's heels, making the floorboards quake.

'I dunno exactly,' said Harry, making another random turn, 'but Ron and Hermione must be around here somewhere...'

The first casualties of the battle were already strewn across the passage ahead: The two stone gargoyles that usually guarded the entrance to the staffroom had been smashed apart by a jinx that had sailed through another broken window. Their remains stirred feebly on the floor, and as Harry leapt over one of their disembodied heads, it moaned faintly. 'Oh, don't mind me... I'll just be here and crumble...'

Its ugly stone face made Harry think suddenly of the marble bust of Rowena Ravenclaw at Xenophilius's house, wearing that mad headdress and then of the statue in Ravenclaw Tower, with the stone diadem upon her white curls...

And as he reached the end of the passage, the memory of a third stone effigy came back to him: that of an ugly old warlock, onto whose head Harry himself had placed a wig and a battered old hat. The shock shot through Harry with the heat of firewhisky, and he nearly stumbled.

He knew, at least, where the Horcrux sat waiting for him...

Tom Riddle, who confided in no one and operated alone, might have been arrogant enough to assume that he, and only he, had penetrated the deepest mysteries of Hogwarts Castle. Of course, Dumbledore and Flitwick, those model pupils, had never set foot in that particular place, but he, Harry, had strayed off the beaten track in his time at school here at least was a secret area he and Voldemort knew, that Dumbledore had never discovered…

He was roused by Professor Sprout, who was thundering past followed by Neville and half a dozen others, all of them wearing earmuffs and carrying what appeared to be large potted plants.

'Mandrakes!' Neville bellowed at them over his shoulder as he ran. 'Going to lob them over the wall they won't like this!''

Harry knew now where to go. He sped off, with Kitty, Hagrid and Fang galloping behind him. They passed portrait after portrait, and the painted figures raced alongside them, wizards and witches in ruffs and breeches, in armor and cloaks, cramming themselves into each others' canvases, screaming news from other parts of the castle. As they reached the end of this corridor, the whole castle shook, and Harry knew, as a gigantic vase blew off its plinth with explosive force, that it was in the grip of enchantments more sinister than those of the teachers and the Order.

'It's all righ', Fang…it's all righ'!' yelled Hagrid, but the great boarhound had taken flight as slivers of china flew like shrapnel through the air, and Hagrid pounded off after the terrified dog, leaving Harry and Kitty alone.

They forged on through the trembling passages, their wands at the ready. They hurtled around a corner and found Fred and a small knot of students, including Lee Jordan and Hannah Abbott, standing beside another empty plinth, whose statue had concealed a secret passageway. Their wands were drawn and they were listening at the concealed hole.

'Nice night for it!' Fred shouted as the castle quaked again, and Harry sprinted by, elated and terrified in equal measure. Along yet another corridor he dashed, and then there were owls everywhere, and Mrs. Norris was hissing and trying to bat them with her paws, no doubt to return them to their proper place...

'Potter!'

Aberforth Dumbledore stood blocking the corridor ahead, his wand held ready.

'I've had hundreds of kids thundering through my pub, Potter!'

'I know, we're evacuating,' Harry said, 'Voldemort's…'

'…attacking because they haven't handed you over, yeah,' said Aberforth. 'I'm not deaf, the whole of Hogsmeade heard him. And it never occurred to any of you to keep a few Slytherins hostage? There are kids of Death Eaters you've just sent to safety. Wouldn't it have been a bit smarter to keep 'em here?'

'It wouldn't stop Voldemort,' said Kitty, 'and your brother would never have done it.'

Aberforth grunted and tore away in the opposite direction.

Your brother would never have done it... Well, it was the truth, Harry thought as he ran on again: Dumbledore, who had defended Snape for so long, would never have held students ransom...

And then they skidded around a final corner and with a yell of mingled relief and fury they saw them: Ron and Hermione; both with their arms full of large, curved, dirty yellow objects, Ron with a broomstick under his arms.

'Where the hell have you been?' Harry shouted.

'Chamber of Secrets,' said Ron.

''Chamber…what?' said Harry, coming to an unsteady halt before them.

'It was Ron, all Ron's idea!' said Hermione breathlessly. 'Wasn't it absolutely brilliant? There we were, after we left, and I said to Ron, even if we find the other one, how are we going to get rid of it? We still hadn't got rid of the cup! And then he thought of it! The basilisk!'

'What the?'

'Something to get rid of Horcruxes,' said Ron simply.

Harry's eyes dropped to the objects clutched in Ron and Hermione's arms: great curved fangs; torn, he now realized, from the skull of a dead basilisk.

'But how did you get in there?' Kitty asked, staring from the fangs to Ron. 'You need to speak Parseltongue!'

'He did!' whispered Hermione. 'Show him, Ron!'

Ron made a horrible strangled hissing noise.

'It's what you did to open the locket,' he told Harry apologetically. 'I had to have a few goes to get it right, but,' he shrugged modestly, 'we got there in the end.'

'Brilliant!' said Kitty excitedly.

'He was amazing!' said Hermione. 'Amazing!'

'So...' Harry was struggling to keep up. 'So...'

'So we're another Horcrux down,'' said Ron, and from under his jacket he pulled the mangled remains of Hufflepuff's cup. 'Hermione stabbed it. Thought she should. She hasn't had the pleasure yet.'

'Genius!' yelled Harry.

'It was nothing,' said Ron, though he looked delighted with himself. 'So what's new with you?'

As he said it, there was an explosion from overhead: All three of them looked up as dust fell from the ceiling and they heard a distant scream.

'I know what the diadem looks like, and I know where it is,' said Harry, talking fast. 'He hid it in the Room of Requirement, where everyone's been hiding stuff for centuries. He thought he was the only one to find it. Come on.'

As the walls trembled again, he led the other three back through the concealed entrance and down the staircase into the Room of Requirement. It was empty except for three women: Ginny, Tonks and an elderly witch wearing a moth-eaten hat, whom Kitty recognized immediately as Neville's grandmother.

'Ah, Potter,' she said crisply as if she had been waiting for him. 'You can tell us what's going on.'

'Is everyone okay?' said Ginny and Tonks together.

'Are you okay?' said Kitty to Tonks.

'We're fine, tell us what's been going on?'

'Everything's fine, as far as we know,' said Harry. 'Are there still people in the passage to the Hog's Head?'

He knew that the room would not be able to transform while there were still users inside it.

'I was the last to come through,' said Mrs. Longbottom. 'I sealed it, I think it unwise to leave it open now Aberforth has left his pub. Have you seen my grandson?'

'He's fighting,' said Kitty.

'Naturally,' said the old lady proudly. 'Excuse me, I must go and assist him.'

With surprising speed she trotted off toward the stone steps.

Harry looked at Tonks.

'I thought you were supposed to be with Teddy at your mother's?'

'I couldn't stand not knowing,' Tonks looked anguished. 'She'll look after him…have you seen Remus?'

'He was planning to lead a group of fighters into the grounds…' said Kitty.

Without another word, Tonks sped off.

'No, Tonks, stay here!' cried Kitty but she did not return.

'Ginny,' said Harry, 'I'm sorry, but we need you to leave too. Just for a bit. Then you can come back in.'

Ginny looked simply delighted to leave her sanctuary.

'And then you can come back in!' he shouted after her as she ran up the steps after Tonks. 'You've got to come back in!'

'Hang on a moment!' said Ron sharply. 'We've forgotten someone!'

'Who?' asked Hermione.

'The house-elves, they'll all be down in the kitchen, won't they?'

'You mean we ought to get them fighting?' asked Harry.

'No,' said Ron seriously, 'I mean we should tell them to get out. We don't want anymore Dobbies, do we? We can't order them to die for us…'

There was a clatter as the basilisk fangs cascaded out of Hermione's arms. Running at Ron, she flung them around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Ron threw away the fangs and broomstick he was holding and responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted Hermione off her feet.

'Is this the moment?' Harry asked weakly looking at Kitty.

'Oi! There's a war going on here!' said Kitty loudly.

Ron and Hermione broke apart, their arms still around each other.

'I know,' said Ron, who looked as though he had recently been hit on the back of the head with a Bludger, 'so it's now or never, isn't it?"

'Never mind that, what about the Horcrux?' Kitty shouted. 'D'you think you could just…just hold it in until we've got the diadem?'

'Yeah…right … sorry…' said Ron, and he and Hermione set about gathering up fangs, both pink in the face.

It was clear, as the four of them stepped back into the corridor upstairs, that in the minutes that they had spent in the Room of Requirement the situation within the castle had deteriorated severely: The walls and ceiling were shaking worse than ever; dust filled the air, and through the nearest window, Harry saw bursts of green and red light so close to the foot of the castle that he knew the Death Eaters must be very near to entering the place. Looking down, Harry saw Grawp the giant meandering past, swinging what looked like a stone gargoyle torn from the roof and roaring his displeasure.

'Let's hope he steps on some of them!' said Ron as more screams echoed from close by.

'As long as it's not any of our lot!' said a voice: Harry turned and saw Ginny and Tonks, both with their wands drawn at the next window, which was missing several panes. Even as he watched, Ginny sent a well-aimed jinx into a crowd of fighters below.

'Good girl!' roared a figure running through the dust toward them, and Harry saw Aberforth again, his gray hair flying as he led a small group of students past. 'They look like they might be breaching the north battlements, they've brought giants of their own.'

'Have you seen Remus?' Tonks called after him.

'He was dueling Dolohov,' shouted Aberforth, 'haven't seen him since!'

'Tonks,' said Kitty, 'Tonks, I'm sure he's okay…'

But Tonks had run off into the dust after Aberforth.

Ginny turned, helpless, to Harry, Kitty, Ron, and Hermione.

'They'll be all right,' said Harry, though he knew they were empty words. 'Ginny, we'll be back in a moment, just keep out of the way, keep safe, come on!' he said to Ron, Kitty and Hermione, and they ran back to the stretch of wall beyond which the Room of Requirement was waiting to do the bidding of the next entrant.

I need the place where everything is hidden. Harry begged of it inside his head, and the door materialized on their third run past.

The furor of the battle died the moment they crossed the threshold and closed the door behind them: All was silent. They were in a place the size of a cathedral with the appearance of a city, its towering walls built of objects hidden by thousands of long-gone students.

'And he never realized anyone could get in?' said Ron, his voice echoing in the silence.

'He thought he was the only one,' said Harry. 'Too bad for him I've had to hide stuff in my time... this way,' he added. 'I think it's down here...'

They sped off up adjacent aisles; Harry could hear the others' footsteps echoing through the towering piles of junk, of bottles, hats, crates, chairs, books, weapons, broomsticks, bats...

'Somewhere near here,' Harry muttered to himself. 'Somewhere... somewhere...'

Deeper and deeper into the labyrinth he went, looking for objects he recognized from his one previous trip into the room. His breath was loud in his ears, and then his very soul seemed to shiver. There it was, right ahead, the blistered old cupboard in which he had hidden his old Potions book, and on top of it, the pockmarked stone warlock wearing a dusty old wig and what looked like an ancient discolored tiara.

He had already stretched out his hand, though he remained few feet away, when a voice behind him said, 'Hold it, Potter!'

He skidded to a halt and turned around. Crabbe and Goyle were standing behind him, shoulder to shoulder, wands pointing right at Harry and Kitty. Kitty could not hear Ron or Hermione anymore. They seemed to have run out of earshot, searching for the diadem.

'So how come you two aren't with Voldemort?' asked Harry.

'We're gonna be rewarded,' said Crabbe. His voice was surprisingly soft for such an enormous person: Harry had hardly ever heard him speak before. Crabbe was speaking like a small child promised a large bag of sweets. 'We 'ung back, Potter. We decided not to go. Decided to bring you to 'im.'

'Good plan," said Harry in mock admiration. He could not believe that he was this close, and was going to be thwarted by Crabbe, and Goyle. He began edging slowly backward toward the place where the Horcrux sat lopsided upon the bust. If he could just get his hands on it before the fight broke out...

'So how did you get in here?' he asked, trying to distract them.

'We was hiding in the corridor outside,' grunted Goyle. 'We can do Disslusion Charms now! And then,' his face split into a gormless grin, 'you turned up right in front of us and said you was looking for a die-dum! What's a die-dum?'

'Hey!' cried a voice behind them. Kitty stepped aside to look behind Crabbe, and saw Draco.

'Stupefy!' cried Draco, and Crabbe fell over stunned.

'Draco…' began Goyle, but Kitty pushed him onto the rubble on the floor.

Draco gave Harry a swift nod, and rushed towards Kitty.

'I followed you…' said Draco, hugging Kitty, 'Are you okay?'

'Harry, get the diadem!' shouted Kitty to Harry, who had paused to look at them, 'I'm fine, Draco. You need to stay safe. Voldemort must have come to know by now that you're on our side…'

'Yeah, he has,' said Draco.

'Harry?' Ron's voice echoed suddenly from the other side of the wall to Harry's right. 'Are you talking to someone?'

'Ron!' Harry bellowed, as somewhere out of sight Hermione screamed, and Harry heard innumerable objects crashing to the floor on the other side of the destabilized wall: He pointed his wand at the rampart, cried, 'Finite!' and it steadied.

'No!' shouted Malfoy, 'If you wreck the room you might bury this diadem thing!'

'Yeah, right,' said Harry.

'Harry?' shouted Ron again, from the other side of the junk wad. 'What's going on?'

Harry had lunged for the tiara; which flew into the air; the diadem soared upward and then dropped out of sight in the mass of objects on which the bust had rested.

'It's somewhere here!' Harry yelled at Kitty, pointing at the pile of junk into which the old tiara had fallen. 'Look for it while I go and help R…'

'HARRY!' she screamed.

A roaring, billowing noise behind him gave him a moment's warning. He turned and saw both Ron and Goyle running as hard as they could up the aisle toward them.

'Like it hot, scum?' roared Goyle as he ran.

But he seemed to have no control over what he had done. Flames of abnormal size were pursuing them, licking up the sides of the junk bulwarks, which were crumbling to soot at their touch.

'Aguamenti!' Harry bawled, but the jet of water that soared from the tip of his wand evaporated in the air.

'RUN!'

Malfoy grabbed the Kitty and dragged her along; Goyle outstripped all of them, now looking terrified; Harry, Ron, and Hermione pelted along in his wake, and the fire pursued them. It was not normal fire; Goyle had used a curse of which Kitty had no knowledge. As they turned a corner the flames chased them as though they were alive, sentient, intent upon killing them. Now the fire was mutating, forming a gigantic pack of fiery beasts: Flaming serpents, chimaeras, and dragons rose and fell and rose again, and the detritus of centuries on which they were feeding was thrown up into the air into their fanged mouths, tossed high on clawed feet, before being consumed by the inferno.

Malfoy, Kitty and Goyle had vanished from view: Harry, Ron and Hermione stopped dead; the fiery monsters were circling them, drawing closer and closer, claws and horns and tails lashed, and the heat was solid as a wall around them.

'What can we do?' Hermione screamed over the deafening roars of the fire. 'What can we do?'

'Here!'

Harry seized a pair of heavy-looking broomsticks from the nearest pile of junk and threw one to Ron, and another to Hermione. Harry swung his leg over the second broom and, with hard kicks to the ground, they soared up in the air, missing by feet the horned beak of a flaming raptor that snapped its jaws at them. The smoke and heat were becoming overwhelming: Below them the cursed fire was consuming the contraband of generations of hunted students, the guilty outcomes of a thousand banned experiments, the secrets of the countless souls who had sought refuge in the room. Harry could not see a trace of Malfoy, Kitty or Goyle anywhere. He swooped as low as he dare over the marauding monsters of flame to try to find them, but there was nothing but fire: What a terrible way to die... He had never wanted this...

'Harry, let's get out, let's get out!' bellowed Ron, though it was impossible to see where the door was through the black smoke.

'No way!' said Harry, 'I'm not leaving Kat…and Malfoy too…'

And then Harry heard a thin, piteous human scream from amidst the terrible commotion, the thunder of devouring flame.

'It's…too…dangerous…!' Ron yelled, but Harry wheeled in the air. His glasses giving his eyes some small protection from the smoke, he raked the firestorm below, seeking a sign of life, a limb or a face that was not yet charred like wood...

And he saw them: Malfoy with his arms around the Kitty, the pair of them perched on a fragile tower of charred desks, and Goyle beside them, and Harry dived. Malfoy saw him coming and raised one arm, but even as Harry grasped it he knew at once that it was no good. Goyle was too heavy and Malfoy's hand, covered in sweat, slid instantly out of Harry's…

A great flaming chimaera bore down upon them, Ron dragged Goyle onto his broom and rose, rolling and pitching, into the air once more as Malfoy clambered up behind Harry. Kitty had already got onto Hermione's broom.

'The door, get to the door, the door!' yelled Malfoy in Harry's ear, and Harry sped up, following Ron, Hermione, Kitty and Goyle through the billowing black smoke, hardly able to breathe: and all around them the last few objects unburned by the devouring flames were flung into the air, as the creatures of the cursed fire cast them high in celebration: cups and shields, a sparkling necklace, and an old, discolored tiara…

'What are you doing, what are you doing, the door's that way!' shouted Malfoy, but Harry made a hairpin swerve and dived. The diadem seemed to fall in slow motion, turning and glittering as it dropped toward the maw of a yawning serpent, and then he had it, caught it around his wrist…

Harry swerved again as the serpent lunged at him; he soared upward and straight toward the place where, he prayed, the door stood open; Ron, Hermione and Goyle had vanished; then, through the smoke, Harry saw a rectangular patch on the wall and steered the broom at it, and moments later clean air filled his lungs and they collided with the wall in the corridor beyond.

Malfoy fell off the broom and lay facedown, gasping, coughing. He crawled over to Kitty, and pulled her to her rolled over and sat up: The door to the Room of Requirement had vanished, and Ron and Hermione sat panting on the floor beside Goyle, who was unconscious.

'C-Crabbe,' choked Kitty as soon as he could speak. 'C-Crabbe...'

'He's dead,' said Ron harshly.

There was silence, apart from panting and coughing. Then a number of huge bangs shook the castle, and a great cavalcade of transparent figures galloped past on horses, their heads screaming with bloodlust under their arms. Harry staggered to his feet when the Headless Hunt had passed and looked around: The battle was still going on all around him. He could hear more scream than those of the retreating ghosts. Panic flared within him.

'Where's Ginny?' he said sharply. 'She was here. She was supposed to be going back into the Room of Requirement.'

'Blimey, d'you reckon it'll still work after that fire?' asked Ron, but he too got to his feet, rubbing his chest and looking left and right. 'Shall we split up and look…'

'No,' said Hermione, getting to her feet too. Goyle remained slumped hopelessly on the corridor floor. 'Let's stick together. I say we go…Harry, what's that on your arm?'

'What? Oh yeah …'

He pulled the diadem from his wrist and held it up. It was still hot, blackened with soot, but as he looked at it closely he was just able to make out the tiny words etched upon it; WIT BEYOND MEASURE IS MAN'S GREATEST TREASURE.

A bloodlike substance, dark and tarry, seemed to be leaking from the diadem. Suddenly Harry felt the thing vibrate violently, then break apart in his hands, and as it did so, he thought he heard the faintest, most distant scream of pain, echoing not from the grounds or the castle, but from the thing that had just fragmented in his fingers.

'It must have been Fiendfyre!' said Hermione, her eyes on the broken piece.

'Sorry?'

'Cursed fire,' said Hermione, 'It destroys Horcruxes. I wonder where Goyle learned…'

'We all are taught Dark Magic when we are young,' said Draco grimly.

'Shame you weren't concentrating when they mentioned how to stop it, really,' said Ron, whose hair, like Hermione's, was singed, and whose face was blackened.

'You can't stop it, Weasel King,' said Draco.

'Not again,' whimpered Kitty.

'But don't you realize?' whispered Hermione. 'This means, if we can just get the snake…'

But she broke off as yells and shouts and the unmistakable noises of dueling filled the corridor. Harry looked around and his heart seemed to fail: Death Eaters had penetrated Hogwarts. Fred and Percy had just backed into view, both of them dueling masked and hooded men.

Harry, Kitty, Draco, Ron, and Hermione ran forward to help: Jets of light flew in every direction and the man dueling Percy backed off, fast: Then his hood slipped and they saw a high forehead and streaked hair…

'Hello, Minister!' bellowed Percy, sending a neat jinx straight at Thicknesse, who dropped his wand and clawed at the front of his robes, apparently in awful discomfort. 'Did I mention I'm resigning?'

'You're joking, Perce!' shouted Fred as the Death Eater he was battling collapsed under the weight of three separate Stunning Spells. Thicknesse had fallen to the ground with tiny spikes erupting all over him; he seemed to be turning into some form of sea urchin. Fred looked at Percy with glee.

'You actually are joking, Perce... I don't think I've heard you joke since you were…'

The air exploded. They had been grouped together, Harry, Kitty, Draco, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and Percy, the two Death Eaters at their feet, one Stunned, the other Transfigured; and in that fragment of a moment, when danger seemed temporarily at bay, the world was rent apart, Kitty felt herself flying through the air, and all she could do was hold as tightly as possible to that thin stick of wood that was her one and only weapon, and shield her head in her arms: She heard the screams and yells of her companions without a hope of knowing what had happened to them…

And then the world resolved itself into pain and semidarkness: she was half buried in the wreckage of a corridor that had been subjected to a terrible attack. Cold air told her that the side of the castle had been blown away, and hot stickiness on her cheek told her that she was bleeding copiously. Then she heard a terrible cry that pulled at her insides, that expressed agony of a kind neither flame nor curse could cause, and she stood up, swaying. And Hermione was struggling to her feet in the wreckage, and three redheaded men were grouped on the ground where the wall had blasted apart. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand as they staggered and stumbled over stone and wood.

'Where's Draco?' Kitty cried frantically. 'Defodio!'

The rocks and earth to which Kitty was pointing flew apart. And Draco emerged, coughing, nad struggling to get out. Kitty helped him out and pulled him to his feet.

'You're okay?'

He nodded, still coughing.

'No … no…no!' someone was shouting. 'No! Fred! No!' And Percy was shaking his brother, and Ron was kneeling beside them, and Fred's eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face.

_Please review!_


	41. Chapter 41

The Shrieking Shack

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

The world had ended, so why had the battle not ceased, the castle fallen silent in horror, and every combatant laid down their arms? Kitty's mind was in free fall, spinning out of control, unable to grasp the impossibility, because Fred Weasley could not be dead, the evidence of all her senses must be lying..and then a body fell past the hole blown into the side of the school and curses flew in at them from the darkness, hitting the wall behind their heads.

'Get down!' Harry shouted, as more curses flew through the night: He and Draco had both grabbed Kitty and pulled her to the floor, but Percy lay across Fred's body, shielding it from further harm, and when Harry shouted 'Percy, come on, we've got to move!' he shook his head.

'Percy!' Kitty saw tear tracks streaking the grime coating Ron's face as he seized his elder brother's shoulders and pulled, but Percy would not budge. 'Percy, you can't do anything for him! We're going to…'

Hermione screamed, and Harry, turning, did not need to ask why. A monstrous spider the size of a small car was trying to climb through the huge hole in the wall. One of Aragog's descendants had joined the fight.

Ron and Harry shouted together; their spells collided and the monster was blown backward, its legs jerking horribly, and vanished into the darkness.

'It brought friends!' Harry called to the others, glancing over the edge of the castle through the hole in the wall the curses had blasted. More giant spiders were climbing the side of the building, liberated from the Forbidden Forest, into which the Death Eaters must have penetrated. Harry fired Stunning Spells down upon them, knocking the lead monster into its fellows, so that they rolled back down the building and out of sight. Then more curses came soaring over Harry's head, so close he felt the force of them blow his hair.

'Wait!' cried Kitty, 'What if it's on our side?'

'What does it matter? It's a damn spider!' shouted Draco, shooting killing spells at the spiders.

'Let's move, NOW!'

Pushing Hermione ahead of him with Ron, Harry stooped to seize Fred's body under the armpit. Percy, realizing what Harry was trying to do, stopped clinging to the body and helped: together, crouching low to avoid the curses flying at them from the grounds, they hauled Fred out of the way. Kitty and Draco followed them.

'Here,' said Harry, and they placed Fred's body in a niche where a suit of armor had stood earlier.

'Draco, I must go with Harry, now!' cried Kitty, 'You stay here!'

'No!' shouted Draco.

'No, Harry'll take care of me. You go and help the others who are wounded, please! Or just go and kill off Bellatrix, that'll be a huge help!' said Kitty.

'Alright!' yelled Draco, and went off in the opposite direction.

Kitty took off after Harry, Ron and Hermione. Rounding the corner, Percy let out a bull-like roar: 'ROOKWOOD!' and sprinted off in the direction of a tall man, who was pursuing a couple of students. 'Harry, Kitty, in here!' Hermione screamed.

She had pulled Ron behind a tapestry. They seemed to be wrestling together, and for one mad second Kitty thought that they were embracing again; then she saw that Hermione was trying to restrain Ron, to stop him running after Percy.

'Listen to me…LISTEN RON!'

'I wanna help…I wanna kill Death Eaters…'

His face was contorted, smeared with dust and smoke, and he was shaking with rage and grief.

'Ron, we're the only ones who can end it! Please Ron, we need the snake, we've got to kill the snake!' said Hermione.

But Harry knew how Ron felt: Pursuing another Horcrux could not bring the satisfaction of revenge; he too wanted to fight, to punish them, the people who had killed Fred, and he wanted to find the other Weasleys, and above all make sure, make quite sure, that Ginny was not…but he could not permit that idea to form in his mind...

'We will fight!' Hermione said. 'We'll have to, to reach the snake! But let's not lose sight now of what we're supposed to be d-doing! We're the only ones who can end it!'

She was crying too, and she wiped her face on her torn and singed sleeve as she spoke, but she took great heaving breaths to calm herself as, still keeping a tight hold on Ron. Kitty turned to Harry.

'You need to find out where Voldemort is, because he'll have the snake with him, won't he? Do it, Harry look inside him!'

Why was it so easy? Because his scar had been burning for hours, yearning to show him Voldemort's thoughts? He closed his eyes on her command, and at once, the screams and bangs and all the discordant sounds of the battle were drowned until they became distant, as though he stood far, far away from them...

He was standing in the middle of a desolate but strangely familiar room, with peeling paper on the walls and all the windows boarded up except for one. The sounds of the assault on the castle were muffled and distant. The single unblocked window revealed distant bursts of light where the castle stood, but inside the room was dark except for a solitary oil lamp.

He was rolling his wand between his fingers, watching it, his thoughts on the room in the castle, the secret room only he had ever found, the room, like the chamber, that you had to be clever and cunning and inquisitive to discover...He was confident that the boy would not find the diadem...although Dumbledore's puppet had come much farther than he ever expected...too far...

'My Lord,' said a voice, desperate and cracked. He turned: there was Lucius Malfoy sitting in the darkest corner, ragged and still bearing the marks of the punishment he had received after the boy's last escape. One of his eyes remained closed and puffy. 'My Lord...please...my son…'

'If your son is dead, Lucius, it is not my fault. He did not come and join me, like the rest of the Slytherins. Perhaps he has decided to befriend Harry Potter?'

'No, never,' whispered Malfoy. 'You must hope not.'

'Aren't…aren't you afraid, my Lord that Potter might die at another hand but yours?' asked Malfoy, his voice shaking. 'Wouldn't it be...forgive me...more prudent to call off this battle, enter the castle, and seek him y-yourself?'

'Do not pretend Lucius. You wish the battle to cease so that you can discover what has happened to your son. And I do not need to seek Potter. Before the night is out, Potter will have come to find me.'

Voldemort dropped his gaze once more to the wand in his fingers. It troubled him...and those things that troubled Lord Voldemort needed to be rearranged...'Go and fetch Severus.'

'Severus, m-my Lord?'

'Severus. Now. I need him. There is a…service…I require from him. Go.'

Frightened, stumbling a little through the gloom, Lucius left the room. Voldemort continued to stand there, twirling the wand between his fingers, staring at it.

'It is the only way, Nagini,' he whispered, and he looked around, and there was the great thick snake, now suspended in midair, twisting gracefully within the enchanted, protected space he had made for her, a starry, transparent sphere somewhere between a glittering cage and a tank.

With a gasp, Harry pulled back and opened his eyes at the same moment his ears were assaulted with the screeches and cries, the smashes and bangs of battle.

'He's in the Shrieking Shack. The snake's with him, it's got some sort of magical protection around it. He's just sent Lucius Malfoy to find Snape.'

'Voldemort's sitting in the shrieking Shack?' said Kitty, outraged. 'He's not…he's not even FIGHTING?'

'He doesn't think he needs to fight,' said Harry. 'He thinks I'm going to go to him.'

'But why?' cried Hermione.

'He knows I'm after Horcruxes, he's keeping Nagini close beside him…obviously I'm going to have to go to him to get near the thing…'

'Right,' said Ron, squaring his shoulders. 'So you can't go, that's what he wants, what he's expecting. You stay here and look after Hermione, and I'll go and get it…' Kitty cut across Ron.

'If anyone should go, it should be me, I think…' said Kitty.

'You two stay here, I'll go under the Cloak and I'll be back as soon as I…' said Harry.

'No,' said Hermione, 'it makes much more sense if I take the Cloak and…'

'Don't even think about it,' Ron snarled at her, before Hermione could get farther than 'Ron, I'm just as capable…' The tapestry at the top of the staircase on which they stood was ripped open.

'POTTER!'

Two masked Death Eaters stood there, but even before their wands were fully raised, Kitty shouted 'Glisseo!'

The stairs beneath their feet flattened into a chute and she, Harry, Hermione and Ron hurtled down it, unable to control their speed but so fast that the Death Eaters' Stunning Spells flew far over their heads. They shot through the concealing tapestry at the bottom and spun onto the floor, hitting the opposite wall.

'Duro!' cried Kitty, pointing her wand at the tapestry, and there were two loud, sickening crunches as the tapestry turned to stone and the Death Eaters pursuing them crumpled against it.

'Get back!' shouted Ron, and he, Kitty, Harry, and Hermione hurled themselves against a door as a herd of galloping desks thundered past, shepherded by a sprinting Professor McGonagall. She appeared not to notice them. Her hair had come down and there was a gash on her cheek. As she turned the corner, they heard her scream,

'CHARGE!'

'Harry, you get the Cloak on,' said Kitty. 'Never mind us…'

But he threw it over all four of them; large though they were he doubted anyone would see their disembodied feet through the dust that clogged the air, the falling stone, the shimmer of spells. They ran down the next staircase and found themselves in a corridor full of duelers. The portraits on either side of the fighters were crammed with figures screaming advice and encouragement, while Death Eaters, both masked and unmasked, dueled students and teachers. Dean had won himself a wand, for he was face-to-face with Dolohov, Parvati with Travers. Harry, Kitty, Ron and Hermione raised their wands at once, ready to strike, but the duelers were weaving and darting so much that there was a strong likelihood of hurting on of their own side if they cast curses. Even as they stood braced, looking for the opportunity to act, there came a great 'Wheeeeee!' and looking up, Kitty saw Peeves zooming over them, dropping Snargaluff pods down onto the Death Eaters, whose heads were suddenly engulfed in wriggling green tubers like fat worms.

'ARGH!'

A fistful of tubers had hit the Cloak over Ron's head; the damp green roots were suspended improbably in midair as Ron tried to shake them loose.

'Someone's invisible there!' shouted a masked Death Eater, pointing.

Dean made the most of the Death Eater's momentary distraction, knocking him out with a stunning Spell; Dolohov attempted to retaliate, and Parvati shot a Body Bind Curse at him. 'LET'S GO!' Harry yelled, and he, Kitty, Ron, and Hermione gathered the Cloak tightly around themselves and pelted, heads down, through the midst of the fighters, slipping a little in pools of Snargaluff juice, toward the top of the marble staircase into the entrance hall.

Draco was dueling with a Greyback on the upper landing. Kitty stunned the werewolf as they passed. Draco looked around, beaming, for his savior, and Ron punched him from under the Cloak. Draco fell backward on top of the Greyback, his mouth bleeding, utterly bemused.

'Lay off!' said Kitty angrily.

There were more duelers all over the stairs and in the hall. Death Eaters everywhere Kitty looked: Yaxley, close to the front doors, in combat with Flitwick, a masked Death Eater dueling Kingsley right beside them. Students ran in every direction; some carrying or dragging injured friends. Harry directed a Stunning Spell toward the masked Death Eater; it missed but nearly hit Neville, who had emerged from nowhere brandishing armfuls of Venomous Tentacula, which looped itself happily around the nearest Death Eater and began reeling him in.

Harry, Kitty, Ron, and Hermione sped won the marble staircase: glass shattered on the left, and the Slytherin hourglass that had recorded House points spilled its emeralds everywhere, so that people slipped and staggered as they ran. Two bodies fell from the balcony overhead as they reached the ground a gray blur that Kitty took for an animal sped four-legged across the hall to sink its teeth into one of the fallen.

'NO!' shrieked Hermione, and with a deafening blast from her wand, the werewolf was thrown backward from the feebly struggling body of Lavender Brown. He hit the marble banisters and struggled to return to his feet. Then, with a bright white flash and a crack, a crystal ball fell on top of his head, and he crumpled to the ground and did not move.

'I have more!' shrieked Professor Trelawney from over the banisters. 'More for any who want them! Here…' And with a move like a tennis serve, she heaved another enormous crystal sphere from her bag, waved her wand through the air, and caused the ball to speed across the hall and smash through a window. At the same moment, the heavy wooden front doors burst open, and more of the gigantic spiders forced their way into the front hall.

Screams of terror rent the air: the fighters scattered, Death Eaters and Hogwartians alike, and red and green jets of light flew into the midst of the oncoming monsters, which shuddered and reared, more terrifying than ever.

'How do we get out?' yelled Ron over all the screaming, but before either Harry, Kitty or Hermione could answer they were bowled aside; Hagrid had come thundering down the stairs, brandishing his flowery pink umbrella.

'Don't hurt 'em, don't hurt 'em!' he yelled.

'HAGRID, NO!'

Harry forgot everything else: he sprinted out from under the cloak, running bent double to avoid the curses illuminating the whole hall.

'HAGRID, COME BACK!' yelled Kitty rushing out form under the cloak towards him.

But she was not even halfway to Hagrid when he saw it happen: Hagrid vanished amongst the spiders, and with a great scurrying, a foul swarming movement, they retreated under the onslaught of spells, Hagrid buried in their midst.

'Harry!' Harry heard someone calling his own name, whether friend or foe he did not care: He was springing down the front steps into the dark grounds followed by Kitty, and the spiders were swarming away with their prey, and he could see nothing of Hagrid at all.

'HAGRID!'

He thought he could make out an enormous arm waving from the midst of the spider swarm, but as he made to chase after them, his way was impeded by a monumental foot, which swung down out of the darkness and made the ground on which he stood shudder. He looked up: A giant stood before him, twenty feet high, its head hidden in shadow, nothing but its treelike, hairy shins illuminated by light from the castle doors. With one brutal, fluid movement, it smashed a massive fist through an upper window, and glass rained down upon Harry and Kitty, forcing him back under the shelter of the doorway.

'Oh my…!' shrieked Hermione, as she and Ron caught up with Harry and Kitty and gazed upward at the giant now trying to seize people through the window above.

'DON'T!' Ron yelled, grabbing Hermione's hand as she raised her wand. 'Stun him and he'll crush half the castle…'

'HAGGER?'

Grawp came lurching around the corner of the castle; only now did Kitty realize that Grawp was, indeed, an undersized giant. The gargantuan monster trying to crush people on the upper floors turned around and let out a roar. The stone steps trembled as he stomped toward his smaller kin, and Grawp's lopsided mouth fell open, showing yellow, half brick-sized teeth; and then they launched themselves at each other with the savagery of lions.

'RUN!' Harry roared; the night was full of hideous yells and blows as the giants wrestled, and he seized Kitty's hand and tore down the steps into the grounds, Ron and Hermione bringing up the rear. Harry had not lost hope of finding and saving Hagrid; he ran so fast that they were halfway toward the forest before they were brought up short again.

The air around them had frozen: Harry's breath caught and solidified in his chest. Shapes moved out in the darkness, swirling figures of concentrated blackness, moving in a great wave towards the castles, their faces hooded and their breath rattling...

Ron, Kitty and Hermione closed in beside him as the sounds of fighting behind them grew suddenly muted, deadened, because a silence only dementors could bring was falling thickly through the night, and Fred was gone, and Hagrid was surely dying or already dead...

'Come on, Harry!' said Hermione's voice from a very long way away.

'Patronuses, Harry, come on!'

Kitty raised her wand, but a dull hopelessness was spreading throughout her: How many more lay dead that she did not yet know about? She felt as though her soul had already half left her body...

'HARRY, COME ON!' screamed Hermione.

A hundred dementors were advancing, gliding toward them, sucking their way closer to Harry's despair, which was like a promise of a feast...

'Expecto Patronum!' cried kitty as a silver doe burst from her wand tip, and capered around the four of them and in a few seconds it faded. Kitty saw Ron's silver terrier burst into the air, flicker feebly, and expire; she saw Hermione's otter twist in midair and fade...

And then a silver hare, a boar, and fox soared past Harry, Kitty, Ron, and Hermione's heads: the dementors fell back before the creatures' approach. Three more people had arrived out of the darkness to stand beside them, their wands outstretched, continuing to cast Patronuses: Luna, Ernie, and Draco.

'That's right,' said Luna encouragingly, as if they were back in the Room of Requirement and this was simply spell practice for the D.A. 'That's right, Harry...come on think of something happy...'

'Something happy?' he said, his voice cracked.

'We're all still here,' she whispered, 'we're still fighting. Come on, now...'

'Expecto Patronum!' cried Kitty, and a silver doe burst form her wand tip once was a silver spark, then a wavering light, and then, with the greatest effort it had ever cost Harry the stag burst from the end of Harry's wand. It cantered forward, and now the dementors scattered in earnest, and immediately the night was mild again, but the sounds of the surrounding battle were loud in his ears.

'Can't thank you enough,' said Ron shakily, turning around 'you just saved…' he caught sight of Draco and stopped speaking.

With a roar and an earth-quaking tremor, another giant came lurching out of the darkness from the direction of the forest, brandishing a club taller than any of them.

'RUN!' Harry shouted again, but the others needed no telling; They all scattered, and not a second too soon, for the next moment the creature's vast foot had fallen exactly where they had been standing. Harry looked round: Kitty, Ron and Hermione were following him, but the other three had vanished back into the battle. 'Let's get out of range!' yelled Ron as the giant swung its club again and its bellows echoed through the night, across the grounds where bursts of red and green light continued to illuminate the darkness.

'The Whomping willow,' said Harry, 'go!' he walled it all up in his mind, crammed it into a small space into which he could not look now: thoughts of Fred and Hagrid, and his terror for all the people he loved, scattered in and outside the castle, must all wait, because they had to run, had to reach the snake and Voldemort, because that was, as Kitty said, the only way to end it…

He sprinted, half-believing he could outdistance death itself, ignoring the jets of light flying in the darkness all around him, and the sound of the lake crashing like the sea, and the creaking of the Forbidden Forest though the night was windless; through grounds that seemed themselves to have risen in rebellion, he ran faster than he had ever moved in his life, and it was he who saw the great tree first, the Willow that protected the secret at its roots with whiplike, slashing branches. Panting and gasping, Harry slowed down, skirting the willow's swiping branches, peering through the darkness toward its tick trunk, trying to see the single knot in the bark of the old tree that would paralyze it. Kitty, Ron and Hermione caught up, Hermione so out of breath that she could not speak.

'How… how're we going to get in?' panted Ron. 'I can…see the place….if we just had….Crookshanks again…'

'Crookshanks?' said Kitty, 'Of course!'

She transformed into a leopard cub and rushed towards the tree trunk. She put her paw on the knot and the tree's branches stopped lashing out, and it was rendered immobile. Then she transformed back into herself.

'Oh…right… yeah….good thinking,' said Ron distractedly.

'Perfect!' panted Hermione. 'Wait.'

For one teetering second, while the crashes and booms of the battle filled the air, Harry hesitated. Voldemort wanted him to do this, wanted him to come...Was he leading Kitty, Ron and Hermione into a trap? But the reality seemed to close upon him, cruel and plain: the only way forward was to kill the snake, and the snake was where Voldemort was, and Voldemort was at the end of this tunnel...

'Harry, we're coming, just get in there!' said Kitty, pushing him forward.

Harry wriggled into the earthy passage hidden in the tree's roots.

It was a much tighter squeeze than it had been the last time they had entered it. The tunnel was low-ceilinged: they had had to double up to move through it nearly four years previously; now there was nothing for it but to crawl. Harry went first, his wand illuminated, expecting at any moment to meet barriers, but none came. They moved in silence, Harry's gaze fixed upon the swinging beam of the wand held in his fist. At last, the tunnel began to slope upward and Harry saw a sliver of light ahead. Kitty tugged at his ankle.

'The Cloak!' she whispered. 'Put the Cloak on!'

He groped behind him and she forced the bundle of slippery cloth into his free hand. With difficulty he dragged it over himself, murmured, 'Nox,' extinguishing his wandlight, and continued on his hands and knees, as silently as possible, all his senses straining, expecting every second to be discovered, to hear a cold clear voice, see a flash of green light.

And then Kitty heard voices coming from the room directly ahead of them, only slightly muffled by the fact that the opening at the end of the tunnel had been blocked up by what looked like an old crate. Hardly daring to breathe, Harry edged right up tot he opening and peered through a tiny gap left between crate and wall.

The room beyond was dimly lit, but Kitty could see Nagini, swirling and coiling like a serpent underwater, safe in her enchanted, starry sphere, which floated unsupported in midair. She could see the edge of a table, and a long-fingered white hand toying with a wand.

Then Snape spoke, and Kitty's heart lurched: Snape was inches away from where they crouched, hidden.

'...my Lord, their resistance is crumbling…'

'… and it is doing so without your help,' said Voldemort in his high, clear voice. 'Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there...almost.'

'Let me find the boy. Let me bring you Potter. I know I can find him, my Lord. Please.'

Snape strode past the gap, and Harry and Kitty drew back a little, keeping their eyes fixed upon Nagini, wondering whether there was any spell that might penetrate the protection surrounding her, but Kitty could not think of anything. One failed attempt, and they would give away their position...

Voldemort stood up. Kitty could see him now, see the red eyes, the flattened, serpentine face, the pallor of him gleaming slightly in the semidarkness.

'I have a problem, Severus,' said Voldemort softly.

'My Lord?' said Snape.

Voldemort raised the Elder Wand, holding it as delicately and precisely as a conductor's baton.

'Why doesn't it work for me, Severus?'

In the silence Kitty imagined he could hear the snake hissing slightly as it coiled and uncoiled or was it Voldemort's sibilant sigh lingering on the air?

'My…my lord?' said Snape blankly. 'I do not understand. You…you have performed extraordinary magic with that wand..

'No,' said Voldemort. 'I have performed my usual magic. I am extraordinary, but this wand...no. It has not revealed the wonders it has promised. I feel no difference between this wand and the one I procured from Ollivander all those years ago.'

Voldemort's tone was musing, calm, but Harry's scar had begun to throb and pulse: Pain was building in his forehead, and he could feel that controlled sense of fury building inside Voldemort.

'No difference,' said Voldemort again.

Snape did not speak. Kitty could not see his face. She wondered whether Snape sensed danger, was trying to find the right words to reassure his master. Voldemort started to move around the room: Kitty lost sight of him for seconds as he prowled, speaking in that same measured voice, while the pain and fury mounted in her.

'I have thought long and hard, Severus...do you know why I have called you back from battle?'

And for a moment Kitty saw Snape's profile. His eyes were fixed upon the coiling snake in its enchanted cage.

'No, my Lord, but I beg you will let me return. Let me find Potter.'

'You sound like Lucius. Neither of you understands Potter as I do. He does not need finding. Potter will come to me. I knew his weakness you see, his one great flaw. He will hate watching the others struck down around him, knowing that it is for him that it happens. He will want to stop it at any cost. He will come.'

'But my Lord, he might be killed accidentally by someone other than yourself…'

'My instructions to the Death Eaters have been perfectly clear. Capture Potter. Kill his friends…the more, the better…but do not kill him…But it is of you that I wished to speak, Severus, not Harry Potter. You have been very valuable to me. Very valuable'

'My Lord knows I seek only to serve him. But… let me go and find the boy, my Lord. Let me bring him to you. I know I can…'

'I have told you, no!' said Voldemort, and Kitty caught the glint of red in his eyes as he turned again, and the swishing of his cloak was like the slithering of a snake, and he felt Voldemort's impatience in his burning scar. 'My concern at the moment, Severus, is what will happen when I finally meet the boy!'

'My Lord, there can be no question, surely…'

'…but there is a question, Severus. There is.'

Voldemort halted, and Harry could see him plainly again as he slid the Elder Wand through his white fingers, staring at Snape.

'Why did both the wands I have used fail when directed at Harry Potter?'

'I…I cannot answer that, my Lord.'

'Can't you?'

The stab of rage felt like a spike driven through Harry's head: he forced his own fist into his mouth to stop himself from crying out in pain. He closed his eyes, and suddenly he was Voldemort, looking into Snape's pale face.

'My wand of yew did everything of which I asked it, Severus, except to kill Harry Potter. Twice it failed. Ollivander told me under torture of the twin cores, told me to take another's wand. I did so, but Lucius's wand shattered upon meeting Potter's.'

'I…I have no explanation, my Lord.'

Snape was not looking at Voldemort now. His dark eyes were still fixed upon the coiling serpent in its protective sphere.

'I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from its previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore.'

And now Snape looked at Voldemort, and Snape's face was like a death mask. It was marble white and so still that when he spoke, it was a shock to see that anyone lived behind the blank eyes.

'My Lord…let me go to the boy…'

'All this long night when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here,' said Voldemort, his voice barely louder than a whisper, 'wondering, wondering, why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner...and I think I have the answer.'

Snape did not speak.

'Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen.'

'My Lord…'

'The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot truly be mine.'

'My Lord!' Snape protested, raising his wand.

'It cannot be any other way,' said Voldemort. 'I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last.'

And Voldemort swiped the air with the Elder Wand. It did nothing to Snape, who for a split second seemed to think he had been reprieved: but then Voldemort's intention became clear. The snake's cage was rolling through the air, and before Snape could do anything more than yell, it had encased him, head and shoulders, and Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue.

'Strike.'

There was a terrible scream. Kitty saw Snape's face losing the little color it had left; it whitened as his black eyes widened, as the snake's fangs pierced his neck, as he failed to push the enchanted cage off himself, as his knees gave way and he fell to the floor.

'I regret it,' said Voldemort coldly. 'Yet, I have been kind to you not to award you a slow death. Nagini's poison spreads fast, you will be dead within minutes.'

He turned away; there was no sadness in him, no remorse. It was time to leave this shack and take charge, with a wand that would now do his full bidding. He pointed it at the starry cage holding the snake, which drifted upward, off Snape, who fell sideways onto the floor, blood gushing from the wounds in his neck. Voldemort swept from the room without a backward glance, and the great serpent floated after him in its huge protective sphere.

Back in the tunnel and his own mind, Harry opened his eyes; He had drawn blood biting down on his knuckles in an effort not to shout out. Now he was looking through the tiny crack between crate and wall, watching a foot in a black boot trembling on the floor.

'Harry!' breathed Kitty behind him, but he had already pointed his wand at the crate blocking his view. It lifted an inch into the air and drifted sideways silently. As quietly as he could, he pulled himself up into the room. Kitty followed him, and fell to her knees, beside Snape, who widened his eyes when he saw her.

Kitty did not think what she was doing. She tugged at a chain she was wearing round her neck, took off the bezoar and thrust it into Snape's open mouth. A few seconds later, his breathing relaxed and the blood flow from his neck ceased.

She did not know why she was doing it, why she had saved this dying man: she did not know what she felt as she saw Snape's white face, him who had killed Dumbledore... Harry took off the invisibility cloak and looked down upon the man he hated, whose widening black eyes found Harry as he cried to speak. Kitty bent over him, and Snape seized the front of her robes and pulled her close.

A terrible rasping, gurgling noise issued from Snape's throat.

'Take...it...Take...it...'

Something more than blood was leaking from Snape. Silvery blue, neither gas nor liquid, it gushed form his mouth and his ears and his eyes, and Kitty knew what it was…

She conjured a flask from thin air and lifted the silvery substance into it, with her wand. When the flask was full to the brim, Snape's grip on Kitty's robes slackened.

'Look...at...me...' he whispered.

Kitty looked at Snape who said, 'You look so much like her…like Lily…'

'Harry, we must take him to Madam Pomfrey!' said Kitty.

'But he's going to live…I mean you gave him the bezoar,' said Harry.

'Yes,' said Kitty, 'I did. But the bezoar only killis the poison, and slows the blood flow. He can still die, if he's not attended to!'

'Alright,' said Harry, as Ron stepped forward.

Both of them hoisted Snape to his feet, and helped him out of the Shrieking Shack and back up to the castle.

_Please review!_


	42. Chapter 42

The Prince's Tale Part I

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

As they neared the castle, Hermione and Kitty levitating an unconscious Snape, they heard Voldemort's voice reverberate from the walls and floor, and Kitty realized that he was talking to Hogwarts and to all the surrounding area, that the residents of Hogsmeade and all those still fighting in the castle would hear him as clearly as if he stood beside them, his breath on the back of their necks, a deathblow away.

'You have fought,' said the high, cold voice, 'valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery.'

'Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste.'

'Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately.'

'You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.'

'I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour.'

Both Ron and Hermione shook their heads frantically, looking at Harry.

'Don't listen to him,' said Kitty.

'It'll be all right,' said Hermione wildly. 'If he's gone back to the forest, we'll think of something…'

Small bundles seemed to litter the lawn at the front of the castle. It could only be an hour or so from dawn, yet it was pitch-black. The four of them hurried toward the stone steps with Snape's body. A lone dog, the size of a small boat, lay abandoned in front of them. There was no other sign of Grawp or of his castle was unnaturally silent. There were no flashes of light now, no bangs or screams or shouts. The flagstones of the deserted entrance hall were stained with blood. Emeralds were still scattered all over the floor, along with pieces of marble and splintered wood. Part of the banisters had been blown away.

'Where is everyone?' whispered Hermione.

Ron led the way to the Great Hall. Harry stopped in the doorway.

The House tables were gone and the room was crowded. The survivors stood in groups, their arms around each other's necks. The injured were being treated upon the raised platform by Madam Pomfrey and a group of helpers. Firenze was amongst the injured; his flank poured blood and he shook where he lay, unable to stand.

'Madam Pomfrey!' cried Kitty, 'Professor Snape is here…he was bitten by Voldemort's snake, I gave him a bezoar, but he's unconscious. Tend to him, please!'

'But, he's on their side,' said Madam Pomfrey, taken aback.

'I know, but just do it!' cried Kitty.

Madam Pomfrey brought Snape down from the air, with a wave of her wand, and poured a potion into his mouth.

The dead lay in a row in the middle of the Hall. Kitty could not see Fred's body, because his family surrounded him. George was kneeling at his head; Mrs. Weasley was lying across Fred's chest, her body shaking. Mr. Weasley stroking her hair while tears cascaded down his cheeks.

Without a word to Harry, Ron and Hermione walked away. Harry saw Hermione approach Ginny, whose face was swollen and blotchy, and hug her. Ron joined Bill, Fleur, and Percy, who flung an arm around Ron's shoulders. As Ginny and Hermione moved closer to the rest of the family, Harry had a clear view of the bodies lying next to Fred. Remus who was hugging Tonks, saw Kitty and rushed towards her.

'You're okay!' he said, 'Where have you been? You got me so worried!'

'Where's Draco?' asked Kitty.

'He's okay, he's got minor wounds, but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be fine,' said Remus.

The Great Hall seemed to fly away, become smaller, shrink, as Harry reeled backward from the doorway. He could not draw breath. He could not bear to look at any of the other bodies, to see who else had died for him. He could not bear to join the Weasleys, could not look into their eyes, when if he had given himself up in the first place, Fred might never have died...

'I'll join you in some time, Remus,' said Kitty, 'Look after Draco.'

'But where're you….' began Remus, but Kitty had already run up the marble staircase after Harry.

The castle was completely empty; even the ghosts seemed to have joined the mass mourning in the Great Hall. Kitty ran without stopping, clutching the crystal flask of Snape's last thoughts, and she did not slow down until she reached the stone gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office. Harry was standing before it.

'What's the password?' said Harry kicking the gargoyle in frustration.

'Dumbledore!' said Kitty without thinking, and to their surprise the gargoyle slid aside revealing the spiral staircase behind.

But when Harry burst into the circular office he found a change. The portraits that hung all around the walls were empty. Not a single headmaster or headmistress remained to see them; all, it seemed, had flitted away, charging through the paintings that lined the castle so that they could have a clear view of what was going on.

Harry glanced hopelessly at Dumbledore's deserted frame, which hung directly behind the headmaster's chair, then turned his back on it. The stone Pensieve lay in the cabinet where it had always been. Harry heaved it onto the desk and Kitty poured Snape's memories into the wide basin with its runic markings around the edge. To escape into someone else's head would be a blessed relief... Nothing that even Snape had left her could be worse than his own thoughts. The memories swirled, silver white and strange, and without hesitating, with a feeling of reckless abandonment, as though this would assuage their torturing grief, Harry and Kitty dived.

They fell headlong into sunlight, and Kitty' feet found warm ground. When she straightened up, she saw that she was in a nearly deserted playground. A single huge chimney dominated the distant skyline. Two girls were swinging backward and forward, and a skinny boy was watching them from behind a clump of bushes. His black hair was overlong and his clothes were so mismatched that it looked deliberate: too short jeans, a shabby, overlarge coat that might have belonged to a grown man, an odd smocklike shirt.

Harry and Kitty moved closer to the boy. Snape looked no more than nine or ten years old, sallow, small, stringy. There was undisguised greed in his thin face as he watched the younger of the two girls swinging higher and higher than her sister. Lily looked just like Kitty, and the other girl looked like a miniature version of Aunt Petunia.

'Lily, don't do it!' shrieked the elder of the two.

But the girl had let go of the swing at the very height of its arc and flown into the air, quite literally flown, launched herself skyward with a great shout of laughter, and instead of crumpling on the playground asphalt, she soared like a trapeze artist through the air, staying up far too long, landing far too lightly.

'Mummy told you not to!'

Petunia stopped her swing by dragging the heels of her sandals on the ground, making a crunching, grinding sound, then leapt up, hands on hips.

'Mummy said you weren't allowed, Lily!'

'But I'm fine,' said Lily, still giggling. 'Tuney, look at this. Watch what I can do.'

Petunia glanced around. The playground was deserted apart from themselves and, though the girls did not know it, Snape. Lily had picked up a fallen flower from the bush behind which Snape lurked. Petunia advanced, evidently torn between curiosity and disapproval. Lily waited until Petunia was near enough to have a clear view, and then held out her palm. The flower sat there, opening and closing its petals, like some bizarre, many-lipped oyster.

'Stop it!' shrieked Petunia.

'It's not hurting you,' said Lily, but she closed her hand on the blossom and threw it back to the ground.

'It's not right,' said Petunia, but her eyes had followed the flower's flight to the ground and lingered upon it. 'How do you do it?' she added, and there was definite longing in her voice.

'It's obvious, isn't it?' Snape could no longer contain himself, but had jumped out from behind the bushes. Petunia shrieked and ran backward toward the swings, but Lily, though clearly startled, remained where she was. Snape seemed to regret his appearance. A dull flush of color mounted the sallow cheeks as he looked at Lily.

'What's obvious?' asked Lily.

Snape had an air of nervous excitement. With a glance at the distant Petunia, now hovering beside the swings, he lowered his voice and said, 'I know what you are.'

'What do you mean?'

'You're...you're a witch,' whispered Snape.

She looked affronted.

'That's not a very nice thing to say to somebody!'

She turned, nose in the air, and marched off toward her sister.

'No!' said Snape. He was highly colored now, and Kitty wondered why he did not take off the ridiculously large coat, unless it was because he did not want to reveal the smock beneath it. He flapped after the girls, looking ludicrously batlike, like his older self.

The sisters considered him, united in disapproval, both holding on to one of the swing poles, as though it was the safe place in tag.

'You are,' said Snape to Lily. 'You are a witch. I've been watching you for a while. But there's nothing wrong with that. My mum's one, and I'm a wizard.'

Petunia's laugh was like cold water.

'Wizard!' she shrieked, her courage returned now that she had recovered from the shock of his unexpected appearance. 'I know who you are. You're that Snape boy! They live down Spinner's End by the river,' she told Lily, and it was evident from her tone that she considered the address a poor recommendation. 'Why have you been spying on us?'

'Haven't been spying,' said Snape, hot and uncomfortable and dirty-haired in the bright sunlight. 'Wouldn't spy on you, anyway,' he added spitefully, 'you're a Muggle.'

Though Petunia evidently did not understand the word, she could hardly mistake the tone.

'Lily, come on, we're leaving!' she said shrilly. Lily obeyed her sister at once, glaring at Snape as she left. He stood watching them as they marched through the playground gate, and Harry and Kitty, the only ones left to observe him, recognized Snape's bitter disappointment, and understood that Snape had been planning this moment for a while, and that it had all gone wrong...

The scene dissolved, and before Kitty knew it, re-formed around him. They were now in a small thicket of trees. He could see a sunlit river glittering through their trunks. The shadows cast by the trees made a basin of cool green shade. Two children sat facing each other, cross-legged on the ground. Snape had removed his coat now; his odd smock looked less peculiar in the half light.

'...and the Ministry can punish you if you do magic outside school, you get letters.'

'But I have done magic outside school!'

'We're all right. We haven't got wands yet. They let you off when you're a kid and you can't help it. But once you're eleven,' he nodded importantly, 'and they start training you, then you've got to go careful.'

There was a little silence. Lily had picked up a fallen twig and twirled it in the air, and Kitty somehow knew as if she was thinking it herself that Lily was imagining sparks trailing from it. Then she dropped the twig, leaned in toward the boy, and said, 'It is real, isn't it? It's not a joke? Petunia says you're lying to me. Petunia says there isn't a Hogwarts. It is real, isn't it?'

'It's real for us,' said Snape. 'Not for her. But we'll get the letter, you and me.'

'Really?' whispered Lily.

'Definitely,' said Snape, and even with his poorly cut hair and his odd clothes, he struck an oddly impressive figure sprawled in front of her, brimful of confidence in his destiny.

'And will it really come by owl?' Lily whispered.

'Normally,' said Snape. 'But you're Muggle-born, so someone from the school will have to come and explain to your parents.'

'Does it make a difference, being Muggle-born?'

Snape hesitated. His black eyes, eager in the greenish gloom, moved over the pale face, the dark red hair.

'No,' he said. 'It doesn't make any difference.'

'Good,' said Lily, relaxing. It was clear that she had been worrying.

'You've got loads of magic,' said Snape. 'I saw that. All the time I was watching you...'

His voice trailed away; she was not listening, but had stretched out on the leafy ground and was looking up at the canopy of leaves overhead. He watched her as greedily as he had watched her in the playground.

'How are things at your house?' Lily asked.

A little crease appeared between his eyes.

'Fine,' he said.

'They're not arguing anymore?'

'Oh yes, they're arguing,' said Snape. He picked up a fistful of leaves and began tearing them apart, apparently unaware of what he was doing. 'But it won't be that long and I'll be gone.'

'Doesn't your dad like magic?'

'He doesn't like anything, much,' said Snape.

'Severus?'

A little smile twisted Snape's mouth when she said his name.

'Yeah?'

'Tell me about the Dementors again.'

"What d'you want to know about them for?"

'If I use magic outside school…'

'They wouldn't give you to the Dementors for that! Dementors are for people who do really bad stuff. They guard the wizard prison, Azkaban. You're not going to end up in Azkaban, you're too…'

He turned red again and shredded more leaves. Then a small rustling noise behind Kitty made her turn: Petunia, hiding behind a tree, had lost her footing.

'Tuney!' said Lily, surprise and welcome in her voice, but Snape had jumped to his feet.

'Who's spying now?' he shouted. 'What d'you want?'

Petunia was breathless, alarmed at being caught. Kitty could see her struggling for something hurtful to say.

'What is that you're wearing, anyway?' she said, pointing at Snape's chest. 'Your mum's blouse?'

There was a crack. A branch over Petunia's head had fallen. Lily screamed. The branch caught Petunia on the shoulder, and she staggered backward and burst into tears.

'Tuney!'

But Petunia was running away. Lily rounded on Snape.

'Did you make that happen?'

'No.' He looked both defiant and scared.

'You did!' She was backing away from him. 'You did! You hurt her!'

'No…no, I didn't!'

But the lie did not convince Lily. After one last burning look, she ran from the little thicket, off after her sister, and Snape looked miserable and confused...

And the scene re-formed. Kitty looked around. She was on platform nine and three quarters, and Snape stood beside them, slightly hunched, next to a thin, sallow-faced, sour-looking woman who greatly resembled him. Snape was staring at a family of four a short distance away. The two girls stood a little apart from their parents. Lily seemed to be pleading with her sister. Harry moved closer to listen.

'...I'm sorry, Tuney, I'm sorry! Listen…' She caught her sister's hand and held tight to it, even though Petunia tried to pull it away. 'Maybe once I'm there…no, listen, Tuney! Maybe once I'm there, I'll be able to go to Professor Dumbledore and persuade him to change his mind!'

'I don't…want …to…go!' said Petunia, and she dragged her hand back out of her sister's grasp. 'You think I want to go to some stupid castle and learn to be a…a...'

Her pale eyes roved over the platform, over the cats mewling in their owners' arms, over the owls, fluttering and hooting at each other in cages, over the students, some already in their long black robes, loading trunks onto the scarlet steam engine or else greeting one another with glad cries after a summer apart.

'… you think I want to be a…a freak?'

Lily's eyes filled with tears as Petunia succeeded in tugging her hand away.

'I'm not a freak,' said Lily. 'That's a horrible thing to say.'

'That's where you're going,' said Petunia with relish. 'A special school for freaks. You and that Snape boy...weirdos, that's what you two are. It's good you're being separated from normal people. It's for our safety.'

Lily glanced toward her parents, who were looking around the platform with an air of wholehearted enjoyment, drinking in the scene. Then she looked back at her sister, and her voice was low and fierce.

'You didn't think it was such a freak's school when you wrote to the headmaster and begged him to take you.'

Petunia turned scarlet.

'Beg? I didn't beg!'

'I saw his reply. It was very kind.'

'You shouldn't have read…' whispered Petunia, 'that was my private…how could you…?'

Lily gave herself away by half-glancing toward where Snape stood nearby. Petunia gasped.

'That boy found it! You and that boy have been sneaking in my room!'

'No…not sneaking…' Now Lily was on the defensive. 'Severus saw the envelope, and he couldn't believe a Muggle could have contacted Hogwarts, that's all! He says there must be wizards working undercover in the postal service who take care of…'

'Apparently wizards poke their noses in everywhere!' said Petunia, now as pale as she had been flushed. 'Freak!' she spat at her sister, and she flounced off to where her parents stood...

The scene dissolved again. Snape was hurrying along the corridor of the Hogwarts Express as it clattered through the countryside. He had already changed into his school robes, had perhaps taken the first opportunity to take off his dreadful Muggle clothes. At last he stopped, outside a compartment in which a group of rowdy boys were talking. Hunched in a corner seat beside the window was Lily, her face pressed against the windowpane.

Snape slid open the compartment door and sat down opposite Lily. She glanced at him and then looked back out of the window. She had been crying.

'I don't want to talk to you,' she said in a constricted voice.

'Why not?'

'Tuney h-hates me. Because we saw that letter from Dumbledore.'

'So what?'

She threw him a look of deep dislike.

'So she's my sister!'

'She's only a…' He caught himself quickly; Lily, too busy trying to wipe her eyes without being noticed, did not hear him.

'But we're going!' he said, unable to suppress the exhilaration in his voice. 'This is it! We're off to Hogwarts!'

She nodded, mopping her eyes, but in spite of herself, she half smiled.

'You'd better be in Slytherin,' said Snape, encouraged that she had brightened a little.

'Slytherin?'

One of the boys sharing the compartment, who had shown no interest at all in Lily or Snape until that point, looked around at the word, and Kitty, whose attention had been focused entirely on the two beside the window, saw her father: slight, black-haired like Snape, but with that indefinable air of having been well-cared-for, even adored, that Snape so conspicuously lacked.

'Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?' James asked the boy lounging on the seats opposite him, and with a jolt, Kitty realized that it was Sirius. Sirius did not smile.

'My whole family have been in Slytherin,' he said.

'Blimey,' said James, 'and I thought you seemed all right!'

Sirius grinned.

'Maybe I'll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?'

James lifted an invisible sword.

''Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!' Like my dad.'

Snape made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him.

'Got a problem with that?'

'No,' said Snape, though his slight sneer said otherwise. 'If you'd rather be brawny than brainy…'

'Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?' interjected Sirius.

James roared with laughter. Lily sat up, rather flushed, and looked from James to Sirius in dislike.

'Come on, Severus, let's find another compartment.'

'Oooooo...'

James and Sirius imitated her lofty voice; James tried to trip Snape as he passed.

'See ya, Snivellus!' a voice called, as the compartment door slammed...

And the scene dissolved once more...

Harry and Kitty were standing right behind Snape as they faced the candlelit House tables, lined with rapt faces. Then Professor McGonagall said, 'Evans, Lily!'

Kitty watched her mother walk forward on trembling legs and sit down upon the rickety stool. Professor McGonagall dropped the Sorting Hat onto her head, and barely a second after it had touched the dark red hair, the hat cried, 'Gryffindor!'

Kitty heard Snape let out a tiny groan. Lily took off the hat, handed it back to Professor McGonagall, then hurried toward the cheering Gryffindors, but as she went she glanced back at Snape, and there was a sad little smile on her face. Kitty saw Sirius move up the bench to make room for her. She took one look at him, seemed to recognize him from the train, folded her arms, and firmly turned her back on him.

The roll call continued. Kitty watched Remus, Pettigrew, and her father join Lily and Sirius at the Gryffindor table. At last, when only a dozen students remained to be sorted, Professor McGonagall called Snape.

Harry and Kitty walked with him to the stool, watched him place the hat upon his head. 'Slytherin!' cried the Sorting Hat.

And Severus Snape moved off to the other side of the Hall, away from Lily, to where the Slytherins were cheering him, to where Lucius Malfoy, a prefect badge gleaming upon his chest, patted Snape on the back as he sat down beside him...

And the scene changed...

Lily and Snape were walking across the castle courtyard, evidently arguing. Kitty hurried to catch up with them, to listen in. As she reached them, she realized how much taller they both were. A few years seemed to have passed since their Sorting.

'...thought we were supposed to be friends?' Snape was saying, 'Best friends?'

'We are, Sev, but I don't like some of the people you're hanging round with! I'm sorry, but I detest Avery and Mulciber! Mulciber! What do you see in him, Sev, he's creepy! D'you know what he tried to do to Mary Macdonald the other day?'

Lily had reached a pillar and leaned against it, looking up into the thin, sallow face.

'That was nothing,' said Snape. 'It was a laugh, that's all…'

'It was Dark Magic, and if you think that's funny…'

'What about the stuff Potter and his mates get up to?' demanded Snape. His color rose again as he said it, unable, it seemed, to hold in his resentment.

'What's Potter got to do with anything?' said Lily.

'They sneak out at night. There's something weird about that Lupin. Where does he keep going?'

'He's ill,' said Lily. 'They say he's ill…'

'Every month at the full moon?' said Snape.

'I know your theory,' said Lily, and she sounded cold. 'Why are you so obsessed with them anyway? Why do you care what they're doing at night?'

'I'm just trying to show you they're not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are.'

The intensity of his gaze made her blush.

'They don't use Dark Magic, though,' she dropped her voice. 'And you're being really ungrateful. I heard what happened the other night. You went sneaking down that tunnel by the Whomping Willow, and James Potter saved you from whatever's down there…'

Snape's whole face contorted and he spluttered, 'Saved? Saved? You think he was playing the hero? He was saving his neck and his friends' too! You're not going to…I won't let you…'

'Let me? Let me?'

Lily's bright green eyes were slits. Snape backtracked at once.

'I didn't mean…I just don't want to see you made a fool of…He fancies you, James Potter fancies you!'The words seemed wrenched from him against his will. 'And he's not...everyone thinks...big Quidditch hero…' Snape's bitterness and dislike were rendering him incoherent, and Lily's eyebrows were traveling farther and farther up her forehead.

'I know James Potter's an arrogant toerag,' she said, cutting across Snape. 'I don't need you to tell me that. But Mulciber's and Avery's idea of humor is just evil. Evil, Sev. I don't understand how you can be friends with them.'

Kitty doubted that Snape had even heard her strictures on Mulciber and Avery. The moment she had insulted James Potter, his whole body had relaxed, and as they walked away there was a new spring in Snape's step...

And the scene dissolved...

Kitty watched again as Snape left the Great Hall after sitting his O.W.L. in Defense against the Dark Arts, watched as he wandered away from the castle and strayed inadvertently close to the place beneath the beech tree where James, Sirius, Remus, and Pettigrew sat together. But Harry and Kitty kept their distance this time, because they knew what happened after James had hoisted Severus into the air and taunted him; they knew what had been done and said, and it gave Kitty no pleasure to hear it again... She watched as Lily joined the group and went to Snape's defense. Distantly he heard Snape shout at her in his humiliation and his fury, the unforgivable word: 'Mudblood.'

The scene changed...

'I'm sorry.'

'I'm not interested.'

'I'm sorry!'

'Save your breath.'

It was nighttime. Lily, who was wearing a dressing gown, stood with her arms folded in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.

'I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here.'

'I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just…'

'Slipped out?' There was no pity in Lily's voice. 'It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends you see, you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?'

He opened his mouth, but closed it without speaking.

'I can't pretend anymore. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine.'

'No…listen, I didn't mean…'

'…to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?'

He struggled on the verge of speech, but with a contemptuous look she turned and climbed back through the portrait hole...

_Please review!_


	43. Chapter 43

The Prince's Tale Part II

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

The scene dissolved once more…Harry and Kitty were standing in a big living room…Snape and Lily were now grown up.

'I'm so sorry, Severus,' said Lily. 'I wanted you to be godfather, but James refused. He absolutely refused to make anyone but Remus Kitty's godfather.'

'It's okay,' said Snape bitterly.

'Don't you want to see her, Severus?' said Lily.

'You've got her with you?' said Snape, jumping to his feet.

Lily smiled, and stepped outside the room, and returned with a small bundle. She handed the bundle to Snape who gasped.

'But…she…looks just like…'

'Me, I know,' said Lily, 'And Harry looks like James.'

Snape's eyes narrowed.

Harry and Kitty stepped forward to peer at the baby's face. It had startlingly green, almond shaped eyes, and a tuft of dark red hair. Her complexion was just like that of Lily's.

'I can't wait for them to grow up!' said Lily excitedly.

Harry exchanged a brief glance with Kitty as the room dissolved and the scene took a little longer to reform: Kitty seemed to fly through shifting shapes and colors until her surroundings solidified again and she stood on a hilltop, forlorn and cold in the darkness, the wind whistling through the branches of a few leafless trees. Snape was panting, turning on the spot, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, waiting for something or for someone... His fear infected Kitty too, even though she knew that she could not be harmed, and she looked over her shoulder, wondering what it was that Snape was waiting for…Then a blinding, jagged jet of white light flew through the air. Kitty thought of lightning, but Snape had dropped to his knees and his wand had flown out of his hand.

'Don't kill me!'

'That was not my intention.'

Any sound of Dumbledore Apparating had been drowned by the sound of the wind in the branches. He stood before Snape with his robes whipping around him, and his face was illuminated from below in the light cast by his wand.

'Well, Severus? What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?'

'No…no message… I'm here on my own account!'

Snape was wringing his hands. He looked a little mad, with his straggling black hair flying around him.

'I…I come with a warning…no, a request…please…'

Dumbledore flicked his wand. Though leaves and branches still flew through the night air around them, silence fell on the spot where he and Snape faced each other.

'What request could a Death Eater make of me?'

'The…the prophecy...the prediction...Trelawney...'

'Ah, yes,' said Dumbledore. 'How much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?'

'Everything…everything I heard!' said Snape. 'That is why…it is for that reason…he thinks it means Lily Evans!'

'The prophecy did not refer to a woman,' said Dumbledore. 'It spoke of a boy born at the end of July…'

'You know what I mean! He thinks it means her son, he is going to hunt her down…kill her daughter too…them all…'

'If she means so much to you,' said Dumbledore, 'surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the son?'

'I have… I have asked him…'

'You disgust me,' said Dumbledore, and Kitty had never heard so much contempt in his voice. Snape seemed to shrink a little, 'You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and son? They can die, as long as you have what you want?'

Snape said nothing, but merely looked up at Dumbledore.

'Hide them all, then,' he croaked. 'Keep her…them…safe. Please.'

'And what will you give me in return, Severus?'

'In…in return?' Snape gaped at Dumbledore, and Kitty expected him to protest, but after a long moment he said, 'Anything.'

The hilltop faded, and Harry and Kitty stood in Dumbledore's office, and something was making a terrible sound, like a wounded animal. Snape was slumped forward in a chair and Dumbledore was standing over him, looking grim. After a moment or two, Snape raised his face, and he looked like a man who had lived a hundred years of misery since leaving the wild hilltop.

'I thought...you were going...to keep her...safe...'

'She and James put their faith in the wrong person' said Dumbledore. 'Rather like you, Severus. Weren't you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?'

Snape's breathing was shallow.

'Her boy survives, and her girl,' said Dumbledore.

With a tiny jerk of the head, Snape seemed to flick off an irksome fly.

'Her son lives. And her daughter, she looks just like her. She has her green eyes, and dark red hair…You remember the shape and color of Lily Evans's eyes and her hair, I am sure?'

'DON'T!' bellowed Snape. 'Gone...dead...'

'Is this remorse, Severus?'

'I wish to keep the girl with me,' said Snape.

'Pardon me?' said Dumbledore.

'The girl…Kitty, Lily's daughter,' said Snape, 'I want to raise her myself.'

'I'm afraid that is impossible,' said Dumbledore, 'Firstly, she mustn't be separated from her brother, who has to go to his Aunt's house. Secondly, even if they are separated, her godfather lives. It is his right to raise Kitty if he wants. And thirdly, and most importantly, I don't think Kitty will be safe with you. You are after all a Death Eater…'

'How dare you!' said Snape fiercely, 'How dare you suggest…'

'I merely suggest that though Voldemort may have gone for now, his followers still remain,' said Dumbledore calmly, 'Think for a moment what would happen if Lucius Malfoy, or Bellatrix came to know that Harry Potter's sister is with you.'

'I don't care,' said Snape, 'I'll keep her safe….'

'I'm sorry,' said Dumbledore, 'But I can't allow Kitty to live with you. You don't….'

'I wish...I wish I were dead...'

'And what use would that be to anyone?' said Dumbledore coldly. 'If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear.'

Snape seemed to peer through a haze of pain, and Dumbledore's words appeared to take a long time to reach him.

'What…what do you mean?'

'You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son. And her daughter.'

'They do not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone…'

'The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does.'

'And Kitty, she'll…she'll be safe?' said Snape.

Dumbledore didn't answer. There was a long pause, and slowly Snape regained control of himself, mastered his own breathing. At last he said, 'Very well. Very well. But never….never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear...especially Potter's son...I want your word!'

'My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?' Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape's ferocious, anguished face. 'If you insist...'

The office dissolved but re-formed instantly. Snape was pacing up and down in front of Dumbledore.

'… mediocre, arrogant as his father, a determined rule-breaker, delighted to find himself famous, attention-seeking and impertinent…'

'You see what you expect to see, Severus,' said Dumbledore, without raising his eyes from a copy of Transfiguration Today. 'Other teachers report that the boy is modest, likable, and reasonably talented. Personally, I find him an engaging child.'

'Have you heard from Petunia Dursley?' said Snape, 'Are they looking after Kitty properly?'

'As well as we can hope for,' replied Dumbledore.

'You saw Kitty?' said Snape eagerly, 'What did she look like?'

'Her mother's copy,' said Dumbledore, looking at Snape, who gave a groan.

'Yet, I'm sure that when she comes to Hogwarts, you will treat her no better than Harry,' said Dumbledore.

'If she is like her father…' said Snape resentfully.

'She is Lily's daughter too, Severus. Just like Harry's Lily's son,' said Dumbledore, 'Don't ever forget that.'

'Hmmm,' said Snape, lost in thought.

Dumbledore turned a page, and said, without looking up, 'Keep an eye on Quirrell, won't you?'

A whirl of color, and now everything darkened, and Snape and Dumbledore stood a little apart in the entrance hall, while the last stragglers from the Yule Ball passed them on their way to bed.

'Well?' murmured Dumbledore.

'Karkaroff's Mark is becoming darker too. He is panicking, he fears retribution; you know how much help he gave the Ministry after the Dark Lord fell.' Snape looked sideways at Dumbledore's crooked-nosed profile. 'Karkaroff intends to flee if the Mark burns.'

'Does he?' said Dumbledore softly, as Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies came giggling in from the grounds. 'And are you tempted to join him?'

'No,' said Snape, his black eyes on Fleur's and Roger's retreating figures. 'I am not such a coward. I swore to protect Kitty…and…Harry.'

'Yes,' agreed Dumbledore. 'You are a braver man by far than Igor Karkaroff. You know, I sometimes think we Sort too soon...'

He walked away, leaving Snape looking stricken...

The scene changed…

'You swore that she would come to no harm, while in the school!' said Snape fiercely.

'It was her own fault,' said Dumbledore simply, 'She chose to follow Harry into that maze.'

'Don't you dare blame Kitty!' spat Snape.

'Why not?' said Dumbledore, 'It was her fault.'

'No! If it was anyone's fault, it was Barty Crouch's fault, and yours and…mine…'

'Yes, we are all to blame,' said Dumbledore, 'But she too is at fault…'

'But he…he… tortured her!' said Snape angrily, 'Look at the state of her!'

'I have seen her,' said Dumbledore, 'She will be fine. But you do not think once of Harry.'

'What about the boy?' said Snape.

'He was almost killed, Severus,' said Dumbledore gravely, 'And now that Voldemort's back, he's in greater danger…

The scene changed once more…

'Albus, the woman's mad!' said Snape, 'She's making them write with Blood Quills…'

'I have been informed of that…' said Dumbledore, 'Unfortunately; I find that I have no more authority to do anything about it.'

'No more authority…'

'Yes,' said Dumbledore, 'If that I should try to stop her, the Ministry might even remove me from Hogwarts, and Blood Quills will be the least of problems once I'm gone…'

The scene faded…

And now Harry and Kitty stood in the headmaster's office yet again. It was nighttime, and Dumbledore sagged sideways in the thronelike chair behind the desk, apparently semiconscious. His right hand dangled over the side, blackened and burned. Snape was muttering incantations, pointing his wand at the wrist of the hand, while with his left hand he tipped a goblet full of thick golden potion down Dumbledore's throat. After a moment or two, Dumbledore's eyelids fluttered and opened.

'Why,' said Snape, without preamble, 'why did you put on that ring? It carries a curse, surely you realized that. Why even touch it?'

Marvolo Gaunt's ring lay on the desk before Dumbledore. It was cracked; the sword of Gryffindor lay beside it.

Dumbledore grimaced.

'I...was a fool. Sorely tempted...'

'Tempted by what?'

Dumbledore did not answer.

'It is a miracle you managed to return here!' Snape sounded furious. 'That ring carried a curse of extraordinary power, to contain it is all we can hope for; I have trapped the curse in one hand for the time being…'

Dumbledore raised his blackened, useless hand, and examined it with the expression of one being shown an interesting curio.

'You have done very well, Severus. How long do you think I have?'

Dumbledore's tone was conversational; he might have been asking for a weather forecast. Snape hesitated, and then said, 'I cannot tell. Maybe a year. There is no halting such a spell forever. It will spread eventually, it is the sort of curse that strengthens over time.'

Dumbledore smiled. The news that he had less than a year to live seemed a matter of little or no concern to him.

'I am fortunate, extremely fortunate, that I have you, Severus.'

'If you had only summoned me a little earlier, I might have been able to do more, buy you more time!' said Snape furiously. He looked down at the broken ring and the sword. 'Did you think that breaking the ring would break the curse?'

'Something like that...I was delirious, no doubt...' said Dumbledore. With an effort he straightened himself in his chair. 'Well, really, this makes matters much more straightforward.'

Snape looked utterly perplexed. Dumbledore smiled.

'I refer to the plan Lord Voldemort is revolving around me. His plan to have the Malfoy boy murder me.'

Snape sat down in the chair Harry had so often occupied, across the desk from Dumbledore. Harry could tell that he wanted to say more on the subject of Dumbledore's cursed hand, but the other held it up in polite refusal to discuss the matter further. Scowling, Snape said, 'The Dark Lord does not expect Draco to succeed. This is merely punishment for Lucius's recent failures. Slow torture for Draco's parents, while they watch him fail and pay the price.'

'In short, the boy has had a death sentence pronounced upon him as surely as I have. Yet, he's is made of tougher substance than his father. He's on our side,' said Dumbledore.

'Is he?' said Snape, surprised.

'Yes,' said Dumbledore, 'He wishes to prove himself to Kitty.'

'Kitty will never believe him,' said Snape at once, 'Not when her brother hates Draco Malfoy.'

'I believe differently,' said Dumbledore, 'She already does believe him. She is…so to say, fond of him.'

Snape shrugged stiffly.

'Now, I should have thought the natural successor to the job, once Draco fails, is yourself?'

There was a short pause.

'That, I think, is the Dark Lord's plan.'

'Lord Voldemort foresees a moment in the near future when he will not need a spy at Hogwarts?'

'He believes the school will soon be in his grasp, yes.'

'And if it does fall into his grasp,' said Dumbledore, almost, it seemed, as an aside, 'I have your word that you will do all in your power to protect the students at Hogwarts?'

Snape gave a stiff nod.

'Good. Now then. Your first priority will be to discover what Draco is up to. Offer him help and guidance, he ought to accept, he likes you…'

'… much less since his father has lost favor. Draco blames me, he thinks I have usurped Lucius's position.'

'That's what he shows because he feels that you're on the Dark Lord's side. Naturally, he won't tell you that he's on our side,' said Dumbledore.

Snape raised his eyebrows and his tone was sardonic as he asked, 'Are you intending to let him kill you?'

'Certainly not. You must kill me.'

There was a long silence, broken only by an odd clicking noise. Fawkes the phoenix was gnawing a bit of cuttlebone.

'Would you like me to do it now?' asked Snape, his voice heavy with irony. 'Or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?'

'Oh, not quite yet,' said Dumbledore, smiling. 'I daresay the moment will present itself in due course. Given what has happened tonight,' he indicated his withered hand, 'we can be sure that it will happen within a year.'

'If you don't mind dying,' said Snape roughly, 'why not let Draco do it?'

'Because I do not wish to confide in him yet, that I must die,' said Dumbledore, 'I do not wish to rip his soul apart.'

'And my soul, Dumbledore? Mine?'

'You know whether it will harm your soul to help an old man avoid pain and humiliation,' said Dumbledore. 'I ask this one great favor of you, Severus, because death is coming for me as surely as the Chudley Cannons will finish bottom of this year's league. I confess I should prefer a quick, painless exit to the protracted and messy affair it will be if, for instance, if Greyback is involved, I hear Voldemort has recruited him? Or dear Bellatrix, who likes to play with her food before she eats it.'

His tone was light, but his blue eyes pierced Snape as they had frequently pierced Harry, as though the soul they discussed was visible to him. At last Snape gave another curt nod.

Dumbledore seemed satisfied.

'Thank you, Severus...'

The office disappeared, and now Snape and Dumbledore were strolling together in the deserted castle grounds by twilight.

'What are you doing with Potter, all these evenings you are closeted together?' Snape asked abruptly.

Dumbledore looked weary.

'Why? You aren't trying to give him more detentions, Severus? The boy will soon have spent more time in detention than out.'

'He is his father over again…'

'In looks, perhaps. I spend time with Harry because I have things to discuss with him, information I must give him before it is too late.'

'Information,' repeated Snape. 'You trust him...you do not trust me.'

'It is not a question of trust. I have, as we both know, limited time. It is essential that I give the boy enough information for him to do what he needs to do.'

'And why may I not have the same information?'

'I prefer not to put all of my secrets in one basket, particularly not a basket that spends so much time dangling on the arm of Lord Voldemort.'

'Which I do on your orders!'

'And you do it extremely well. Do not think that I underestimate the constant danger in which you place yourself, Severus. To give Voldemort what appears to be valuable information while withholding the essentials is a job I would entrust to nobody but you.'

'Yet you confide much more in a boy who is incapable of Occlumency, whose magic is mediocre, and who has a direct connection into the Dark Lord's mind!'

'Voldemort fears that connection,' said Dumbledore. 'Not so long ago he had one small taste of what truly sharing Harry's mind means to him. It was pain such as he has never experienced. He will not try to possess Harry again, I am sure of it. Not in that way.'

'I don't understand.'

'Lord Voldemort's soul, maimed as it is, cannot bear close contact with a soul like Harry's. Like a tongue on frozen steel, like flesh in flame…'

'Souls? We were talking of minds!'

'In the case of Harry and Lord Voldemort, to speak of one is to speak of the other.'

Dumbledore glanced around to make sure that they were alone. They were close by the Forbidden Forest now, but there was no sign of anyone near them.

'Alright, I will speak no more of this information,' said Snape, 'But surely you must know that whatever you tell Potter also reaches the ears of his sister?'

'I'm aware,' said Dumbledore.

'Don't forget Albus, that you swore that Kitty would come to no harm,' said Snape.

'Until she's at Hogwarts, yes,' said Dumbledore.

'What do you mean?' said Snape, 'She's in her third year. Four years are still left.'

'Let's not worry about that, Severus. I want to talk about something else at the you have killed me, Severus…'

'You refuse to tell me everything, yet you expect that small service of me!' snarled Snape, and real anger flared in the thin face now. 'You take a great deal for granted, Dumbledore! Perhaps I have changed my mind!'

'You gave me your word, Severus. And while we are talking about services you owe me, I thought you agreed to keep a close eye on our young Slytherin friend?'

Snape looked angry, mutinous. Dumbledore sighed.

'Come to my office tonight, Severus, at eleven, and you shall not complain that I have no confidence in you...'

They were back in Dumbledore's office, the windows dark, and Fawkes sat silent as Snape sat quite still, as Dumbledore walked around him, talking.

'Harry must not know, not until the last moment, not until it is necessary, otherwise how could he have the strength to do what must be done?'

'But what must he do?'

'That is between Harry and me. Now listen closely, Severus. There will come a time…after my death…do not argue, do not interrupt! There will come a time when Lord Voldemort will seem to fear for the life of his snake.'

'For Nagini?' Snape looked astonished.

'Precisely. If there comes a time when Lord Voldemort stops sending that snake forth to do his bidding, but keeps it safe beside him under magical protection, then, I think, it will be safe to tell Harry.'

'Tell him what?'

Dumbledore took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

'Tell him that on the night Lord Voldemort tried to kill him, when Lily cast her own life between them as a shield, the Killing Curse rebounded upon Lord Voldemort, and a fragment of Voldemort's soul was blasted apart from the whole, and latched itself onto the only living soul left in that collapsed building. Part of Lord Voldemort lives inside Harry, and it is that which gives him the power of speech with snakes, and a connection with Lord Voldemort's mind that he has never understood. And while that fragment of soul, unmissed by Voldemort, remains attached to and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die.'

Kitty seemed to be watching the two men from one end of a long tunnel, they were so far away from them, their voices echoing strangely in her ears.

'So the boy...the boy must die?' asked Snape quite calmly.

'And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus. That is essential.'

Another long silence. Then Snape said, 'I thought...all those years...that we were protecting him for her. For Lily.'

'We have protected him because it has been essential to teach him, to raise him, to let him try his strength,' said Dumbledore, his eyes still tight shut. 'Meanwhile, the connection between them grows ever stronger, a parasitic growth. Sometimes I have thought he suspects it himself. If I know him, he will have arranged matters so that when he does set out to meet his death, it will truly mean the end of Voldemort.'

Dumbledore opened his eyes. Snape looked horrified.

'You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment?'

'Don't be shocked, Severus. How many men and women have you watched die?'

'Lately, only those whom I could not save,' said Snape. He stood up. 'You have used me.'

'Meaning?'

'I have spied for you and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter's son and daughter safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter…'

'But this is touching, Severus,' said Dumbledore seriously. 'Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?'

'For him?' shouted Snape. 'Expecto Patronum!'

From the tip of his wand burst the silver doe. She landed on the office floor, bounded once across the office, and soared out of the window. Dumbledore watched her fly away, and as her silvery glow faded he turned back to Snape, and his eyes were full of tears.

'After all this time?'

'Always,' said Snape.

And the scene shifted. Now, Kitty saw Snape talking to the portrait of Dumbledore behind his desk.

'You will have to give Voldemort the correct date of Harry's departure from his aunt and uncle's,' said Dumbledore. 'Not to do so will raise suspicion, when Voldemort believes you so well informed. However, you must plant the idea of decoys; that, I think, ought to ensure Harry's safety. Try Confunding Mundungus Fletcher. And Severus, if you are forced to take part in the chase, be sure to act your part convincingly...You might even have to curse Kitty in order to be believed…'

'Never…' said Snape.

'Not fatally, of course,' said Dumbledore, 'I am counting upon you to remain in Lord Voldemort's good books as long as possible, or Hogwarts will be left to the mercy of the Carrows...'

Now Snape was head to head with Mundungus in an unfamiliar tavern, Mundungus's face looking curiously blank, Snape frowning in concentration.

'You will suggest to the Order of the Phoenix,' Snape murmured, 'that they use decoys. Polyjuice Potion. Identical Potters. It's the only thing that might work. You will forget that I have suggested this. You will present it as your own idea. You understand?'

'I understand,'murmured Mundungus, his eyes unfocused...

Now Harry and Kitty were flying alongside Snape on a broomstick through a clear dark night: He was accompanied by other hodded Death Eaters, and ahead were Remus, Kitty and a Harry who was really George... A Death Eater moved ahead of Snape and raised his wand, pointing it directly at Remus's back.

'Sectumsempra!' shouted Snape.

But the spell, intended for the Death Eater's wand hand, missed and hit George instead…

And next, Snape was kneeling in Sirius's old bedroom. Tears were dripping from the end of his hooked nose as he read the old letter from Lily. The second page carried only a few words: …_could ever have been friends with Gellert Grindelwald. I think her mind's going, personally!_

Lots of love, Lily

Snape took the page bearing Lily's signature, and her love, and tucked it inside his robes.

And now Snape stood again in the headmaster's study as Phineas Nigellus came hurrying into his portrait.

'Headmaster! They are camping in the Forest of Dean! The Mudblood…'

'Do not use that word!'

'…the Granger girl, then, mentioned the place as she opened her bag and I heard her!'

'Good. Very good!' cried the portrait of Dumbledore behind the headmaster's chair. 'Now, Severus, the sword! Do not forget that it must be taken under conditions of need and valor…and he must not know that you give it! If Voldemort should read Harry's mind and see you acting for him…'

'I know,' said Snape curtly. He approached the portrait of Dumbledore and pulled at its side. It swung forward, revealing a hidden cavity behind it from which he took the sword of Gryffindor.

'And you still aren't going to tell me why it's so important to give Potter the sword?' said Snape as he swung a traveling cloak over his robes.

'No, I don't think so,' said Dumbledore's portrait. 'He will know what to do with it. And Severus, be very careful, they may not take kindly to your appearance after George Weasley's mishap…'

Snape turned at the door.

'Don't worry, Dumbledore,' he said coolly. 'I have a plan...'

And Snape left the room. Harry rose up out of the Pensieve, and moments later he lay on the carpeted floor in exactly the same room in which Snape might just have closed the door….

_Please review!_


	44. Chapter 44

The Flaw in the Plan

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

Finally, the truth. Lying with her face pressed into the dusty carpet of the, Kitty understood at last that Harry was not supposed to survive. His job was to walk calmly into Death's welcoming arms. Along the way, he was to dispose of Voldemort's remaining links to life, so that when at last he flung himself across Voldemort's path, and did not raise a wand to defend himself, the end would be clean, and the job that ought to have been done in Godric's Hollow would be finished. Neither would live, neither could survive.

Slowly, very slowly, she sat up, and as she did so she looked at Harry.

'Harry…' said Kitty tears running down her cheeks.

'I have to do it Kat,' said Harry.

'I know, I wasn't going to stop you,' said Kitty sobbing.

Harry pulled her into a hug and said, 'I love you, Kat. I'll always love you. Now listen, look after Ron, Hermione and Ginny. See that they come to no harm. Once I'm gone, you should stay with Remus. Take care of Draco too, I know you will. I don't have to tell you that. And…make sure that everyone knows that Snape was on our side…'

'You don't have to worry about that,' murmured Kitty.

'Also, look for the sword,' said Harry, 'And kill the snake, if you can…'

'I can't, Harry,' said Kitty, 'I'm not a Gryffindor, I can't wield the sword.'

'Well, then, Ron or Hermione must do it,' said Harry, 'Come let's get out of here.'

He stood up and pulled Kitty to her feet too. His heart was leaping against his ribs like a frantic bird. Perhaps it knew it had little time left, perhaps it was determined to fulfill a lifetime's beats before the end. He did not look back as he closed the office door.

The castle was empty. The portrait people were still missing from their frames; the whole place was eerily still, as if all its remaining lifeblood were concentrated in the Great Hall where the dead and the mourners were crammed.

Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak over himself and descended through the floors, at last walking down the marble staircase into the entrance hall. Perhaps some tiny part of him hoped to be sensed, to be seen, to be stopped, but the Cloak was, as ever, impenetrable, perfect, and he reached the front doors easily. Kitty followed him.

Then Neville nearly walked into Harry. He was one half of a pair that was carrying a body in from the grounds.

'You know what? I can manage him alone, Neville,' said Oliver Wood, and he heaved a body over his shoulder in a fireman's lift and carried him into the Great Hall.

Neville leaned against the door frame for a moment and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He looked like an old man. Then he set off on the steps again into the darkness to recover more bodies.

Harry took one glance back at the entrance of the Great Hall. People were moving around, trying to comfort each other, drinking, kneeling beside the dead, but he could not see any of the people he loved, no hint of Remus, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, or any of the other Weasleys, no Luna. He felt he would have given all the time remaining to him for just one last look at them; but then, would he ever have the strength to stop looking? It was better like this.

He moved down the steps and out into the darkness. It was nearly four in the morning, and the deathly stillness of the grounds felt as though they were holding their breath, waiting to see whether he could do what he must.

Harry moved toward Neville, who was bending over another body.

'Neville.'

'Blimey, Harry, you nearly gave me heart failure!'

Harry had pulled off the Cloak: The idea had come to him out of nowhere, born out of a desire to make absolutely sure.

'Where are you going, alone?' Neville asked suspiciously.

'It's all part of the plan,' said Harry. 'There's something I've got to do. Listen…Neville…'

'Harry!' Neville looked suddenly scared. 'Harry, you're not thinking of handing yourself over?'

'No,' Harry lied easily. ''Course not... this is something else. But I might be out of sight for a while. You know Voldemort's snake. Neville? He's got a huge snake... Calls it Nagini...'

'I've heard, yeah... What about it?'

'It's got to be killed. Ron and Hermione know that, but just in case they…'

The awfulness of that possibility smothered him for a moment, made it impossible to keep talking. But he pulled himself together again: This was crucial, he must be like Dumbledore, keep a cool head, make sure there were backups, others to carry on. Dumbledore had died knowing that three people still knew about the Horcruxes; now Neville would take Harry's place.

'Just in case they're…busy…and you get the chance…'

'Kill the snake?'

'Kill the snake with the Sword of Gryffindor,' Harry repeated.

'All right, Harry. You're okay, are you?'

'I'm fine. Thanks, Neville.'

But Neville seized his wrist as Harry made to move on.

'We're all going to keep fighting, Harry. You know that?'

'Yeah, I…'

The suffocating feeling extinguished the end of the sentence; he could not go on. Neville did not seem to find it strange. He patted Harry on the shoulder, released him, and walked away to look for more bodies.

Harry swung the Cloak back over himself and walked on. Someone else was moving not far away, stooping over another prone figure on the ground. He was feet away from her when he realized it was Ginny.

Kitty drifted away to find Draco. She didn't think she could bear to see Harry walking away from her and into the snares of death…

Harry stopped in his tracks. Ginny was crouching over a girl who was whispering for her mother.

'It's all right,' Ginny was saying. 'It's ok. We're going to get you inside.'

'But I want to go home,' whispered the girl. 'I don't want to fight anymore!'

'I know,' said Ginny, and her voice broke. 'It's going to be all right.'

Ripples of cold undulated over Harry's skin. He wanted to shout out to the night, he wanted Ginny to know that he was there, he wanted her to know where he was going. He wanted to be stopped, to be dragged back, to be sent back home...

But he was home. Hogwards was the first and best home he had known. He and Voldemort and Snape, the abandoned boys, had all found home here...

Ginny was kneeling beside the injured girl now, holding her hand. With a huge effort Harry forced himself on. He thought he saw Ginny look around as he passed, and wondered whether she had sensed someone walking nearby, but he did not speak, and he did not look back.

Kitty walked up to Draco.

'Kitty!' he said, 'where've you been? And where's Potter?'

'I don't know,' said Kitty.

'What's happened to you, Kitten? Something's wrong,' said Draco, 'You look so empty. Hang on, you haven't been kissed, have you?'

'Huh?' said Kitty.

'By a Dementor?' said Draco.

'No,' said Kitty, 'Where're the others?'

'Just over there,' said Draco, 'Remus is looking for you. Let's go.'

Kitty walked over to Remus, with Draco.

'How's Tonks?' said Kitty.

'She'll be alright,' said Remus, 'Where's Harry?'

'He…he's in the room of requirement, I think,' said Kitty.

'But I thought it was destroyed when…'said Draco.

'No,' said Kitty. 'How's Professor Snape?'

'He'll be okay,' said Remus, 'Where'd you find him?'

'The Shrieking Shack,' said Kitty.

'The Shrieking…Why'd you go there?'

'I dunno, Remus. Can you just stop asking me so many questions right now?' cried Kitty.

'What is it, Kitty?' said Remus.

'Nothing…'

'Kitty!' cried a voice form behind. Kitty turned. It was Ron, closely followed by Hermione.

'Where's Harry? We thought he was with you!'

'I don't know where he is, okay Ron? Now don't ask me anything else,' said Kitty, dissolving into tears again.

'Kitty!' said Draco, 'What's gotten into you?'

'Where's Harry?' said Hermione, 'he hasn't gone to the Forbidden forest, has he?'

'No,' said Kitty, her voice quavering.

'How could you let him, Kitty?' said Ron.

'I didn't…'

'Come on, we have to go get him…' said Ron.

'No!' shrieked Kitty, 'You can't go, I promised Harry that….'

'We can't just…'

'Hey, if she saying that you have to remain here, then why can't you?' said Draco.

'Because, we unlike you don't run out on our friends!' yelled Ron.

'Stop it, Ron,' said Hermione as Kitty buried her face in her hands. 'Malfoy, you stay here with Kitty, and we'll just…'

'No!' screamed Kitty, 'Why don't you understand? If you go there, he'll kill you. You can't save Harry now!'

Just then, Voldemort's voice boomed throughout the hall and grounds, 'Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together.'

Kitty collapsed on the floor, sobbing hysterically. Draco and Remus rushed to her. Voldemort was striding up towards the castle with his Death Eaters who were cheering. Hagrid was carrying a Harry's body.

The Death Eaters came to a halt and spread out in a line facing the open doors of the school. Professor Mcgonagall screamed loudly. The scream was the more terrible because Kitty had never expected or dreamed that Professor McGonagall could make such a sound. She heard another women laughing nearby, and knew that Bellatrix gloried in McGonagall's despair. Voldemort standing in the middle of the Death eaters, stroking Nagini's head with a single white finger. He closed his eyes again.

'No!'

'No!'

'Harry! HARRY!'

Ron's, Kitty's,Hermione's, and Ginny's voices were worse than McGonagall's; Harry wanted nothing more than to call back, yet he made himself lie silent, and their cries acted like a trigger; the crowd of survivors took up the cause, screaming and yelling abuse at the Death Eathers, until – 'SILENCE!' cried Voldemort, and there was a bang and a flash of bright light, and silence was forced upon them all. 'It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!'

Harry was lowered onto the grass. Kitty broke away form Draco's clutches and ran to Harry, sobbing over his body.

'You see?' said Voldemort, 'Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!'

'He died fighting!' screamed Kitty, and the charm broke, and the defenders of Hogwarts were shouting and screaming again until a second, more powerful bang extinguished their voices once more.

'He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds,' said Voldemort, and there was a relish in his voice for the lie. 'Killed while trying to save himself…'

'Shut up!' shouted Kitty.

Voldemort looked down at Kitty disdainfully.

Someone broke free of the crowd and charged at Voldemort: Kitty saw the figure hit the ground. Disarmed, Voldemort throwing the challenger's wand aside and laughing.

'And who is this?' he said in his soft snake's hiss. 'Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?'

Bellatrix gave a delighted laugh.

'It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?'

'Ah, yes, I remember,' said Voldemort, looking down at Neville, who was struggling back to his feet, unarmed and unprotected, standing in the no-man's-land between the survivors and the Death Eaters. 'But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?' Voldemort asked Neville, who stood facing him, his empty hands curled in fists.

'So what if I am?' said Neville loudly.

'You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom.'

'I'll join you when hell freezes over,' said Neville. 'Dumbledore's Army!' he shouted, and there was an answering cheer from the crowd, whom Voldemort's Silencing Charms seemed unable to hold.

'Very well,' said Voldemort, and Harry heard more danger in the silkiness of his voice than in the most powerful curse. 'If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head,' he said quietly, 'be it.'

Kitty saw Voldemort wave his wand. Seconds later, out of one of the castle's shattered windows, something that looked like a misshapen bird flew through the half light and landed in Voldemort's hand. He shook the mildewed object by its pointed end and it dangled, empty and ragged: the Sorting Hat.

'There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School,' said Voldemort. 'There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice everyone. Won't they, Neville Longbottom?'

He pointed his wand at Neville, who grew rigid and still, then forced the hat onto Neville's head, so that it slipped down below his eyes. There were movements from the watching crowd in front of the castle, and as one, the Death Eaters raised their wands, holding the fighters of Hogwarts at bay.

'Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me,' said Voldemort, and with a flick of his wand, he caused the Sorting Hat to burst into flames.

Screams split the dawn, and Neville was a flame, rooted to the spot, unable to move, and Kitty could not bear it: She must act - And then many things happened at the same moment.

They heard uproar from the distant boundary of the school as what sounded like hundreds of people came swarming over the out-of-sight walls and pelted toward the castle, uttering loud war cries. At the same time, Grawp came lumbering around the side of the castle and yelled, 'HAGGER!' His cry was answered by roars from Voldemort's giants: They ran at Grawp like bull elephants making the earth quake. Then came hooves and the twangs of bows, and arrows were suddenly falling amongst the Death Eaters, who broke ranks, shouting their surprise. Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak from inside his robes, swung it over himself, and sprang to his feet, pushing Kitty off him.

'Harry!' cried Kitty joyfully. Voldemort whipped around.

'Where is he, girl?' asked Voldemort, advancing towards Kitty.

In one swift, fluid motion, Neville broke free of the Body-Bind Curse upon him; the flaming hat fell off him and he drew from its depths something silver, with a glittering, rubied handle - The slash of the silver blade could not be heard over the roar of the oncoming crowd or the sounds of the clashing giants or of the stampeding centaurs, and yet, it seemed to draw every eye. With a single stroke Neville sliced off the great snake's head, which spun high into the air, gleaming in the light flooding from the entrance hall, and Voldemort's mouth was open in a scream of fury that nobody could hear, and the snake's body thudded to the ground at his feet.

Hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak, Harry cast a Shield Charm between Neville and Voldemort before the latter could raise his stamps of the battling giants, Hagrid's yell came loudest of all.

'HARRY!' Hagrid shouted. 'HARRY…WHERE'S HARRY?' Chaos reigned. The charging centaurs were scattering the Death Eaters, everyone was fleeing the giants' stamping feet, and nearer and nearer thundered the reinforcements that had come from who knew where; Kitty saw great winged creatures soaring the heads of Voldemort's giants, thestrals and Buckbeak the hippogriff scratching at their eyes while Grawp punched and pummeled them and now the wizards, defenders of Hogwarts and Death Eaters alike were being forced back into the castle. Kitty was groping in the air, looking for Harry, when Draco caught her, and pulled her into the castle.

Harry was shooting jinxes and curses at any Death Eater he could see, and they crumpled, not knowing what or who had hit them, and their bodies were trampled by the retreating crowd. Still hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak, Harry was buffered into the entrance hall: He was searching for Voldemort and saw him across the room, firing spells from his wand as he backed into the Great Hall, still screaming instructions to his followers as he sent curses flying left and right; Harry cast more Shield Charms, and Voldemort's would-be victims. Seamus Finnigan and Hannah Abbott, darted past him into the Great Hall, where they joined the fight already flourishing inside it.

And now there were more, even more people storming up the front steps, and Kitty saw Charlie Weasley overtaking Horace Slughorn, who was still wearing his emerald pajamas. They seemed to have returned at the head of what looked like the families and friends of every Hogwarts student who had remained to fight along with the shopkeepers and homeowners of Hogsmeade. The centaurs Bane, Ronan and Magorian burst into the hall with a great clatter of hooves, as behind Harry the door that led to the kitchens was blasted off its hinges.

The house-elves of Hogwarts swarmed into the entrance hall, screaming and waving carving knives and cleaver, and at their head, the locker of Regulus Black bouncing on his chest, was Kreacher, his bullfrog's voice audible even above this din: 'Fight! Fight! Fight for my Master, defender of house-elves! Fight the Dark Lord, in the name of brave Regulus! Fight!'

They were hacking and stabbing at the ankles and shim of Death Eaters their tiny faces alive with malice, and everywhere Kitty looked Death Eaters were folding under sheer weight of numbers, overcome by spells, dragging arrows from wounds, stabbed in the leg by elves, or else simply attempting to escape, but swallowed by the oncoming horde.

But it was not over yet: Kitty sped between duelers, past a struggling prisoners, and into he Great Hall.

Voldemort was in the center of the battle, and he was striking and smiting al within reach. Harry could not get a clear shot, but fought his way nearer, still invisible, and the Great Hall became more and more crowded as everyone who could walk forced their way inside.

Kitty saw Yaxley slammed to the floor by George and Lee Jordan, saw Dolohov fall with a scream at Flitwick's hands, saw Walden Macnair thrown across the room by Hagrid, hit the stone wall opposite, and slide unconscious to the ground. She saw Ron and Neville bringing down Fenrir Greyback. Aberforth Stunning Rookwood, Arthur and Percy flooting Thicknesse.

'Draco!' screamed Narcissa chasing Draco, who was shielding Kitty from a Death Eater.

'Draco, come on, they'll handle it!' cried Narcissa.

'No!' yelled Draco, 'I'm not going anywhere!'

Voldemort was now dueling McGonagall, Slughorn, Kingsley all at once, and there was a cold hatred in his face as they wove and ducked around him, unable to finish him - Bellatrix was still fighting too, fifty yards away from Voldemort, and like her master she dueled three at once: Hermione, Ginny and Luna, all battling their hardest, but Bellatrix was equal to them, and Harry's attention was diverted as a Killing Curse shot so close to Ginny that she missed death by an inch -

He changed course, running at Bellatrix rather than Voldemort, but before he had gone a few steps he was knocked sideways.

'NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!'

Mrs. Weasley threw off her cloak as she ran, freeing her arms, Bellatrix spun on the spot, roaring with laughter at the sight of the new challenger.

'OUT OF MY WAY!' shouted Mrs. Weasley to the three girls, and with a simple swipe of her wand she began to duel. Kitty watched with terror and elation as Molly Weasley's wand slashed and twisted, and Bellatrix Lestrange's smile faltered and became a snarl. Jets of light flew from both wands, the floor around the witches' feet became hot and cracked; both woman were fighting to kill.

'No!' Mrs. Weasley cried as a few students ran forward, trying to come to her aid. 'Get back! Get back! She is mine!'

Hundreds of people now lined the walls, watching the two fights, Voldemort and his three opponents, Bellatrix and Molly, and Harry stood, invisible, torn between both, wanting to attack and yet to protect, unable to be sure that he would not hit the innocent.

'What will happen to your children when I've killed you?' taunted Bellatrix, as mad as her master, capering as Molly's curses danced around her. 'When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?'

'You… will…never…touch…our…children…again!' screamed Mrs. Weasley.

Bellatrix laughed the same exhilarated laugh her cousin Sirius had given as he toppled backward through the veil, and suddenly Kitty knew what was going to happen before it did.

Molly's curse soared beneath Bellatrix's constricted arm and hit her squarely in the chest, directly over her heart.

Bellatrix's gloating smile froze, her eyes seemed to bulge: For the tiniest space of time she knew what had happened, and then she toppled, and the watching crowd roared, and Voldemort screamed.

Kitty felt as though she turned into slow motion: she saw McGonagall, Kingsley and Slughorn blasted backward, flailing and writhing through the air, as Voldemort's fury at the fall of his last, best lieutenant exploded with the force of a bomb, Voldemort raised his wand and directed it at Molly Weasley.

'Protego!' screamed Kitty, and the Shield Charm expanded in the middle of the Hall, and Voldemort stared around for the source.

Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak at last.

The yell of shock, the cheers, the screams on every side of: 'Harry!'

The crowd was afraid, and silence fell abruptly and completely as Voldemort and Harry looked at each other, and began, at the same moment, to circle each other.

'I don't want anyone else to help,' Harry said loudly, and in the total silence his voice carried like a trumpet call. 'It's got to be like this. It's got to be me.'

Voldemort hissed.

'Potter doesn't mean that,' he said, his red eyes wide. 'This isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter? Your sister? Or those two?' he pointed at Ron and Hermione.

'Nobody,' said Harry simply. 'There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good...'

'One of us?' jeered Voldemort, and his whole body was taut and his red eyes stared, a snake that was about to strike. 'You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?'

'Accident, was it, when my mother died to save me?' asked Harry. They were still moving sideways, both of them, in that perfect circle, maintaining the same distance from each other, and for Harry no face existed but Voldemort's. 'Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?'

'Accidents!' screamed Voldemort, but still he did not strike, and the watching crowd was frozen as if Petrified, and of the hundreds in the Hall, nobody seemed to breathe but they two. 'Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and sniveled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!'

'You won't be killing anyone else tonight,' said Harry as they circled, and stared into each other's eyes, green into red. 'You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people…'

'But you did not!'

'…I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?'

'You dare…'

'Yes, I dare,' said Harry. 'I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?'

Voldemort did not speak, but prowled in a circle, and Kitty knew that he kept him temporarily mesmerized at bay, held back by the faintest possibility that Harry might indeed know a final secret...

'Is it love again?' said Voldemort, his snake's face jeering. 'Dumbledore favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking like and old waxwork? Love, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse.'

'I do!' cried Kitty rushing towards Harry. Harry waved his wand and she was thrown off her feet, and landing several feet away.

'Just one thing,' said Harry, and still they circled each other, wrapped in each other, held apart by nothing but the last secret.

'If it is not love that will save you this time,' said Voldemort, 'you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?'

'I believe both,' said Harry, and Kitty saw shock flit across the snakelike face, though it was instantly dispelled; Voldemort began to laugh, and the sound was more frightening than his screams; humorless and insane, it echoed around the silent Hall.

'You think you know more magic than I do?' he said. 'Than I, than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?'

'Oh he dreamed of it,' said Harry, 'but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you've done.'

'You mean he was weak!' screamed Voldemort. 'Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!'

'No, he was cleverer than you,' said Harry, 'a better wizard, a better man.'

'I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!'

'You thought you did,' said Harry, 'but you were wrong.'

For the first time, the watching crowd stirred as the hundreds of people around the walls drew breath as one.

'Dumbledore is dead!' Voldemort hurled the words at Harry as in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, 'I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!'

'Yes, Dumbledore is dead,' said Harry calmly, 'but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant.'

'What childish dream is this?' said Voldemort, but still he did not strike, and his red eyes did not waver from Harry's.

'Severus Snape wasn't yours,' said Harry. 'Snape was Dumbledore's. Dumbledore's from the moment you starting hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?'

Voldemort did not answer. They continued to circle each other like wolves about to tear each other apart.

'Snape's Patronus was a doe,' said Harry, 'the same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realized,' he said as he saw Voldemort's nostrils flare, 'he asked you to spare her life, didn't he?'

'He desired her, that was all,' sneered Voldemort, 'but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him…'

'Of course he told you that,' said Harry, 'but he was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!'

'It matters not!' shrieked Voldemort, who had followed every word with rapt attention, but now let out a cackle of mad laughter. 'It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore's, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! I crushed them as I crushed your mother, Snape's supposed great love! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand!'

'Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me!' said Voldemort, 'He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy…I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore's last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!'

'No, he's not dead!' screamed Kitty.

'Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on you, Riddle,' said Harry.

Voldemort's hand was trembling on the Elder Wand, and Harry gripped Draco's very tightly. The moment, he knew, was seconds away.

'That wand still isn't working properly for you because you tried to murder the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore.'

'He killed…'

'Aren't you listening? Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die, undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!'

'But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand!' Voldemort's voice shook with malicious pleasure. 'I stole the wand from its last master's tomb! I removed it against the last master's wishes! Its power is mine!'

'You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? The wand chooses the wizard... The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance...'

Voldemort's chest rose and fell rapidly, and Harry could feel the curse coming, feel it building inside the wand pointed at his face.

'The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy.'

Blank shock showed in Voldemort's face for a moment, but then it was gone.

'But what does it matter?' he said softly. 'Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: We duel on skill alone... and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy...'

Kitty clutched Draco's arm.

'But you're too late,' said Harry. 'You've missed your chance. I got there first. I already disarmed Malfoy.'

Harry twitched the hawthorn wand, and he felt the eyes of everyone in the Hall upon it.

'So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?' whispered Harry. 'Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does... I am the true master of the Elder Wand.'

A red-glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky above them as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window. The light hit both of their faces at the same time, so that Voldemort's was suddenly a flaming blur. Harry heard the high voice shriek as he too yelled his best hope to the heavens, pointing Draco's wand:

'Avada Kedavra!'

'Expelliarmus!'

The bang was like a cannon blast, and the golden flames that erupted between them, at the dead center of the circle they had been treading, marked the point where the spells collided. Harry saw Voldemort's green jet meet his own spell, saw the Elder Wand fly high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Nagini, spinning through the air toward the master it would not kill, who had come to take full possession of it at last.

And Harry, with the unerring skill of the Seeker, caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backward, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upward. Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snakelike face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hand, staring down at his enemy's shell.

One shivering second of silence, the shock of the moment suspended: and then the tumult broke around Harry as the screams and the cheers and the roars of the watchers rent the air. The fierce new sun dazzled the windows as they thundered toward him, and the first to reach him were Kitty, Ron and Hermione, and it was their arms that were wrapped around him, their incomprehensible shouts that deafened him. Then Ginny, Neville, and Luna were there, and then all the Weasleys and Hagrid, and Kingsley and McGonagall and Flitwick and Sprout, and Harry could not hear a word that anyone was shouting, not tell whose hands were seizing him, pulling him, trying to hug some part of him, hundreds of them pressing in, all of them determined to touch the Boy Who Lived, the reason it was over at last…

The sun rose steadily over Hogwarts, and the Great Hall blazed with life and light. Harry was an indispensable part of the mingled outpourings of jubilation and mourning, of grief and celebration. They wanted him there with them, their leader and symbol, their savior and their guide, and that he had not slept, that he craved the company of only a few of them, seemed to occur to no one. He must speak to the bereaved, clasp their hands, witness their tears, receive their thanks, hear the news now creeping in from every quarter as the morning drew on; that the Imperiused up and down the country had come back to themselves, that Death Eaters were fleeing or else being captured, that the innocent of Azkaban were being released at that very moment, and that Kingsley Shacklebolt had been named temporary Minister of Magic.

They moved Voldemort's body and laid it in a chamber off the Hall, away form the bodies of Fred and fifty others who had died fighting him. McGonagall had replaced the House tables, but nobody was sitting according to House anymore: All were jumbled together, teachers and pupils, ghosts and parents, centaurs and house-elves, and Firenze lay recovering in the corner, and Grawp peered in through a smashed window, and people were throwing food into his laughing mouth. After a while, exhausted and drained, Harry found herself sitting on a bench beside Luna.

'I'd want some peace and quiet, if it were me,' she said.

'I'd love some,' he replied.

'I'll distract them all,' she said. 'Use your cloak.'

And before he could say a word, she had cried, 'Oooh, look, a Blibbering Humdinger!' and pointed out the window. Everyone who heard looked around, and Harry slid the Cloak up over himself, and got to his feet.

Now he could move through the Hall without interference. He spotted Ginny two tables away; she was sitting with her head on her mother's shoulder: There would be time to talk later, hours and days and maybe years in which to talk. He saw Neville, the sword of Gryffindor lying beside his plate as he ate, surrounded by a knot of fervent admirers. Along the aisle between the tables he walked, and he spotted the Draco and Kitty, huddled together as though unsure whether or not they were supposed to be there, but nobody was paying them any attention. About two feet away, Lucius Malfoy stood glaring at Kitty. Everywhere Harry looked, he saw families reunited, and finally, he saw the two whose company he craved most.

'It's me,' he muttered, crouching down between them. 'Will you come with me?'

They stood up at once, and together he, Ron and Hermione left the Great Hall.

'Draco, I'll be back,' said Kitty, following Ron and Hermione.

Great chunks were missing from the marble staircase, part of the balustrade gone, and rubble and bloodstains occurred ever few steps as their climbed.

Somewhere in the distance they could hear Peeves zooming through the corridors singing a victory song of his own composition:

We did it, we bashed them, wee Potter's the one,

And Voldy's gone moldy, so now let's have fun!

'Really gives a feeling for the scope and tragedy of the thing, doesn't it?' said Ron, pushing open a door to let Harry, Kitty and Hermione through.

Happiness would come, Harry though, but at the moment it was muffled by exhaustion, and the pain of losing Fred pierced him like a physical wound every few steps. Most of all he felt the most stupendous relief, and a longing to sleep. But first he owed an explanation to Ron and Hermione, who had stuck with him for so long, and who deserved the truth.

Painstakingly he recounted what he had seem in the Pensieve and what had happened in the forest, and they had not even begun to express all their shock and amazement, when at last they arrived at the place to which they had been walking, though none of them had mentioned their destination.

Since he had last seen it, the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the headmaster's study had been knocked aside; it stood lopsided, looking a little punch-drunk, and Harry wondered whether it would be able to distinguish passwords anymore.

'Can we go up?' he asked the gargoyle.

'Feel free,' groaned the statue.

They clambered over him and onto the spiral stone staircase that moved slowly upward like an escalator. Kitty pushed open the door at the top.

She had one, brief glimpse of the stone Pensieve on the desk where they had left it, and then an earsplitting noise made her cry out, thinking of curses and returning Death Eaters and the rebirth of Voldemort…

But it was applause. All around the walls, the headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts were giving them a standing ovation; they waved their hats and in some cases their wigs, they reached through their frames to grip each other's hands; they danced up and down on their chairs in which they have been painted: Dilys Derwent sobbed unashamedly; Dexter Fortescue was waving his ear-trumpet; and Phineas Nigelus called, in his high, reedy voice, 'And let it be noted that Slytherin House played its part! Let our contribution not be forgotten!'

But Harry had eyes only for the man who stood in the largest portrait directly behind the headmaster's chair. Tears were sliding down from behind the half-moon spectacles into the long silver beard, and the pride and the gratitude emanating from him filled Harry with the same balm as phoenix song.

At last, Harry held up his hands, and the portraits fell respectfully silent, beaming and mopping their eyes and waiting eagerly for him to speak. He directed his words at Dumbledore, however, and chose them with enormous care. Exhausted and bleary-eyed though he was, he must make one last effort, seeking one last piece of advice.

'The thing that was hidden in the Snitch,' he began, 'I dropped it in the forest. I don't know exactly where, but I'm not going to go looking for it again. Do you agree?'

'My dear boy, I do,' said Dumbledore, while his fellow pictures looked confused and curious. 'A wise and courageous decision, but no less than I would have expected of you. Does anyone know else know where it fell?'

'No one,' said Harry, and Dumbledore nodded his satisfaction.

'What was it?' asked Kitty.

'The Resurrection Stone,' said Harry.

'I'm going to keep Ignotus's present, though,' said Harry, and Dumbledore beamed.

'But of course, Harry, it is yours forever, until you pass it on!'

'And then there's this.'

Harry held up the Elder Wand, and Kitty, Ron and Hermione looked at it with a reverence that, even in his befuddled and sleep-deprived state, Harry did not like to see.

'I don't want it,' said Harry.

'What?' said Ron loudly. 'Are you mental?'

'I know its powerful,' said Harry wearily. 'But I was happier with mine. So...'

He rummaged in the pouch hung around his neck, and pulled out the two halves of holly still just connected by the finest threat of phoenix feather. Hermione had said that they could not be repaired, that the damage was too severe. All he knew was that if this did not work, nothing would.

He laid the broken wand upon the headmaster's desk, touched it with the very tip of the Elder Wand, and said, 'Reparo.'

As his wand resealed, red sparks flew out of its end. Harry knew that he had succeeded. He picked up the holly and phoenix wand and felt a sudden warmth in his fingers, as though wand and hand were rejoicing at their reunion.

'I'm putting the Elder Wand,' he told Dumbledore, who was watching him with enormous affection and admiration, 'back where it came from. It can stay there. If I die a natural death like Ignotus, its power will be broken, won't it? The previous master will never have been defeated. That'll be the end of it.'

Dumbledore nodded. They smiled at each other.

'Are you sure?' said Ron. There was the faintest trace of longing in his voice as he looked at the Elder Wand.

'I think Harry's right,' said Kitty quietly. But give Draco back his wand, won't you?'

'Yeah,' said Harry.

_Please review!_


	45. Chapter 45

Epilogue

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

Nineteen Years Later…

Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The morning of the first of September was crisp as an apple, and as the little family bobbed across the rumbling road toward the great sooty station, the fumes of car exhausts and the breath of pedestrians sparkled like cobwebs in the cold air. Two large cages tattled on top of the laden trolleys the parents were pushing; the owls inside them hooted indignantly, and the redheaded girl trailed fearfully behind here brothers, clutching her father's arm.

'It won't be long, and you'll be going too,' Harry told her.

'Two years,' sniffed Lily. 'I want to go now!'

The commuters stared curiously at the owls as the family wove its way toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten, Albus's voice drifted back to Harry over the surrounding clamor; his sons had resumed the argument they had started in the car.

'I won't! I won't be a Slytherin!'

'James, give it a rest!' said Ginny.

'I only said he might be,' said James, grinning at his younger brother. 'There's nothing wrong with that. He might be in Slytherin.'

But James caught his mother's eye and fell silent. The five Potters approached the barrier. With a slightly cocky look over his shoulder at his younger brother, James took the trolley from his mother and broke into a run. A moment later, he had vanished.

'You'll write to me, won't you?' Albus asked his parents immediately, capitalizing on the momentary absence of his brother.

'Every day, if you want us to,' said Ginny.

'Not every day,' said Albus quickly, 'James says most people only get letters from home about once a month.'

'We wrote to James three times a week last year,' said Ginny.

'And you don't want to believe everything he tells you about Hogwarts,' Harry put in. 'He likes a laugh, your brother.'

Side by side, they pushed the second trolley forward, gathering speed. As they reached the barrier, Albus winced, but no collision came. Instead, the family emerged onto platform nine and three-quarters, which was obscured by thick white steam that was pouring from the scarlet Hogwarts Express. Indistinct figures were swarming through the mist, into which James had already disappeared.

'Where are they?' asked Albus anxiously, peering at the hazy forms they passed as they made their way down the platform.

'We'll find them,' said Ginny reassuringly.

But the vapor was dense, and it was difficult to make out anybody's faces. Detached from their owners, voices sounded unnaturally loud, Harry thought he head Percy discoursing loudly on broomstick regulations, and was quite glad of the excuse not to stop and say hello...

'I think that's them, Al,' said Ginny suddenly.

A group of four people emerged from the mist, standing alongside the very last carriage. Their faces only came into focus when Harry, Ginny, Lily, and Albus had drawn right up to them.

'Hi,' said Albus, sounding immensely relieved.

Rose, who was already wearing her brand-new Hogwarts robes, beamed at him.

'Parked all right, then?' Ron asked Harry. 'I did. Hermione didn't believe I could pass a Muggle driving test, did you? She thought I'd have to Confund the examiner.'

'No, I didn't,' said Hermione, 'I had complete faith in you.'

'As a matter of fact, I did Confund him,' Ron whispered to Harry, as together they lifted Albus's trunk and owl onto the train. 'I only forgot to look in the wing mirror, and let's face it, I can use a Supersensory Charm for that.'

Back on the platform, they found Lily and Hugo, Rose's younger brother, having an animated discussion about which House they would be sorted into when they finally went to Hogwarts.

'If you're not in Gryffindor, we'll disinherit you,' said Ron, 'but no pressure.'

'Ron!'

Lily and Hugo laughed, but Albus and Rose looked solemn.

'He doesn't mean it,' said Hermione and Ginny, but Ron was no longer paying attention. Catching Harry's eye, he nodded covertly to a point some fifty yards away. The steam had thinned for a moment, and four people stood in sharp relief against the shifting mist.

'Look who it is.'

Draco Malfoy was standing there with his Kitty and his son and daughter, a dark coat buttoned up to his throat. His hair was receding somewhat, which emphasized the pointed chin. The new boy resembled Draco as much as Albus resembled Harry.

'Hi, Harry!' cried Kitty and rushed to embrace her brother.

'My, you're getting big, Kat,' said Harry looking at her belly.

'Thanks,' said Kitty smiling, 'We came to see Albus off.'

'Potter,' said Draco, nodding curtly.

'How are you, Malfoy?' said Harry.

'Very well, thank you,' replied Draco.

'Hello Uncle Harry' said a nine year old blond boy, who looked tremendously like Draco.

'Hi Scorpius!' said Harry, 'Where's Darlene?'

Just then a five year old girl came running towards them. 'Hello Uncle Harry!'

'How are you, Darlene?' said Ginny, 'My, you've become quite a little lady, haven't you?'

Darlene smiled.

'Don't wander off again,' said Draco to his daughter now as now swinging on his arm.

'Oh, I can't wait to go!' said Scorpius, 'where's Lily? And Hugo?'

'Here they are!' said Kitty, as they came into view. Scorpius rushed to greet them.

'Where's Vandyll?' said Kitty, standing on tip toe to look over the crowd.

'Hey!' cried a voice behind them.

'Oh, hey Van!' cried Kitty, as Vandyll came into view, followed by a beautiful woman, who looked quite confused, as she looked at the number of owls present on the platform.

'Oh hey, Scarlet,' said Kitty kissing Vandyll's wife on the cheek, 'How d'you like the Wizarding World?'

'It's nice, thank you,' said Scarlet, still looking around at the owls.

Kitty bent down and hugged Vandyll's eleven year old son. 'Nervous, Tristan?' she said.

'Not in the least,' said the boy grinning at her.

'Hi Tristan!' said Lily shyly; Kitty had always suspected that the two fancied each other since Lily was eight.

James reappeared; he had divested himself of his trunk, owl, and trolley, and was evidently bursting with news.

'Teddy's back there,' he said breathlessly, pointing back over his shoulder into the billowing clouds of steam. 'Just seen him! And guess what he's doing? Snogging Victoire!'

He gazed up at the adults, evidently disappointed by the lack of reaction.

'Our Teddy! Teddy Lupin! Snogging our Victoire! Our cousin! And I asked teddy what he was doing…'

'You interrupted them?' said Ginny. 'You are so like Ron…'

'…and he said he'd come to see her off! And then he told me to go away. He's snogging her!' James added as though worried he had not made himself clear.

'Oh, it would be lovely if they got married!' whispered Lily ecstatically. ''Teddy would really be part of the family then!'

'He already comes round for dinner about four times a week,' said Harry 'Why don't we just invite him to live with us and have done with it?'

'Yeah!' said James enthusiastically. 'I don't mind sharing with Al…Teddy could have my room!'

'No,' said Harry firmly, 'you and Al will share a room only when I want the house demolished.'

He checked the battered old watch that had once been Fabian Prewett's.

'It's nearly eleven, you'd better get on board.'

'Don't forget to give Neville our love!' Ginny told James as she hugged him.

'Mum! I can't give a professor love!'

'But you know Neville…'

James rolled his eyes.

'Outside, yeah, but at school he's Professor Longbottom, isn't he? I can't walk into Herbology and give him love...'

Shaking his head at his mother's foolishness, he vented his feelings by aiming a kick at Albus.

'See you later, Al. Watch out for the thestrals.'

'I thought they were invisible? You said they were invisible!' but James merely laughed, permitted his mother to kiss him, gave his father a fleeting hug, then leapt onto the rapidly filling train. They saw him wave, then sprint away up the corridor to find his friends.

'Thestrals are nothing to worry about,' Harry told Albus. 'They're gentle things, there's nothing scare about them. Anyway, you won't be going up to school in the carriages, you'll be going in the boats.'

Ginny kissed Albus good-bye.

'See you at Christmas.'

'Bye, Al,' said Harry as his son hugged him. 'Don't forget Hagrid's invited you to tea next Friday. Don't mess with Peeves. Don't duel anyone till you're learned how. And don't let James wind you up.'

'What if I'm in Slytherin?'

The whisper was for his father alone, and Harry knew that only the moment of departure could have forced Albus to reveal how great and sincere that fear was.

Harry crouched down so that Albus's face was slightly above his own. Alone of Harry's three children, Albus had inherited Lily's eyes.

'Albus Severus,' Harry said quietly, so that nobody but Kitty could hear, and she was tactful enough to pretend to be waving to Rose and Tristan, who were now on the train, 'you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew.'

'But just say…'

'…then Slytherin House will have gained an excellent student, won't it? It doesn't matter to us, Al. Your Uncle Draco was a Slytherin. Vandyll too was a Slytherin. But if it matters so much to you, you'll be able to choose Gryffindor over Slytherin. The Sorting Hat takes your choice into account.'

'Really?'

'It did for me,' said Harry.

He had never told any of his children that before, and he saw the wonder in Albus's face when he said it. But how the doors were slamming all along the red train, and the blurred outlines of parents swarming forward for final kisses, last-minute reminders, Albus jumped into the carriage and Ginny closed the door behind him. Students were hanging from the windows nearest them. A great number of faces, both on the train and off, seemed to be turned toward Harry.

'Why are they all staring?' demanded Albus as he and Rose craned around to look at the other students.

'Don't let it worry you,' said Ron. 'It's me, I'm extremely famous.'

Albus, Tristan, Scorpius, Darlene, Rose, Hugo, and Lily laughed. The train began to more, and Harry walked alongside it, watching his son's thin face, already ablaze with excitement. Harry kept smiling and waving, even though it was like a little bereavement, watching his son glide away from him...

The last trace of steam evaporated in the autumn air. The train rounded a corner. Harry's hand was still raised in farewell.

'He'll be alright,' murmured Ginny.

As Harry looked at her, he lowered his hand absentmindedly and touched the lightning scar on his forehead.

'I know he will.'

The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.

_Please review! Now that Part IV is over, I'm going to begin Part V, which will focus on Kitty's life in the nineteen years that passed between the battle of Hogwarts and the coming of the next generation, I won't however be writing about Kitty's remaining years at Hogwarts… nevertheless happy Reading!_


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